


Everybody's Gotta Be a Hero

by Memento_Vivere_20



Category: Warrior Nun (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ava has trust issues, Ava is a chaotic mess, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Everyone Has Issues, F/F, Spies & Secret Agents, protective beatrice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:42:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 77,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27577373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Memento_Vivere_20/pseuds/Memento_Vivere_20
Summary: Take a clandestine military organization that operates outside of government purview and partner them with a reluctant citizen in protective custody…what could go wrong?The agents of the OCS have better things to do than chaperone an over-grown child, and Ava certainly doesn’t need a highly trained babysitting squad telling her how to live her life. But with various factions aggressively vying for power and millions of lives at stake, can they each put their differences aside to work together before it’s too late?Or: Beatrice is a secret agent, Ava is a mouthy troublemaker, and they both fall in love despite being kinda busy trying to save the world.
Relationships: Sister Beatrice/Ava Silva
Comments: 194
Kudos: 566





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Not gonna lie, I'm pretty nervous about posting my first fanfic but I hope you'll all bear with me as I hopefully find my feet.
> 
> I wanna say a huge thanks to all the content creators who inspired me to write this in the first place - thanks for sharing your art, your stories, and your videos which have been getting me through what feels like a never-ending hiatus. 
> 
> Also a special thanks to Foibles for the encouragement and help in actually getting this posted!

Ava can't stop smiling. She feels as though she's swallowed the goddamn sun. She's happier than she's ever been, and it's clearly a foreign feeling because a strange warmth flares inside her, igniting every nerve until she's positively humming with joyful energy.

Or is she actually humming? Maybe. She did love to sing.

It's a good day. The best in fact. Today she's walking out of St Michael's Orphanage a free woman. Sure, she had nothing but the clothes on her back and a vague idea of where she might sleep that night, but it didn't matter.

She's eighteen and finally _free._

After years of confinement in a drab monastery-like institution with only nuns and her fellow ragamuffin roommates for company, she is ready to see the real world. It's as though all her life she has only watched the world go by in black and white, and now she will be seeing in colour for the first time.

The possibilities are exhilarating.

She couldn't wait to taste her first burger, or chug back a whole can of coke, or sleep in past 7am. She couldn't wait to meet new people, to go to the movies, to date, to fall in love.

She couldn't wait to finally _live._

Yes, today is going to be a really good day. The first day of the rest of her life. She just has to figure out how she's supposed to...well, start it. Where did she go from the gates of St Michaels? The dirt road stretches out before her offering a choice between left or right, neither routes giving an insight into their end destination.

She scrunches up her nose as she ponders her options. She has absolutely no idea where the town centre is, or in which direction it's in. Is it far?

Can she walk? Do you have to pay for buses, or do they let penniless orphans ride for free? They really should.

As luck would have it, a bus rumbles up the road as she contemplates her next move, and she practically bounces with excitement at the sight. Waving her arms enthusiastically, she flags it down and flashes the driver her brightest smile as the door swings open.

"Hi! Are you going to the town centre?"

The driver scratches his beard. "Well, which part exactly?"

Oh. There are different parts. _Of course._

"Um...you know anywhere. Not really picky," Ava replies, hoisting her tragically empty duffel bag over her shoulder.

Shrugging the driver waves her on board. "Ok, sure. Hop on I guess."

"Great!" she exclaims, clamouring onto the grimy bus. "Just one other thing. Super small, barely worth mentioning really."

"What's that?"

"So, funny story really. But I um...I don't actually have any money," she grins sheepishly, glancing at the pay meter in front of her.

"Get off."

"What? Nooooo! C'mon man! Think of it as like, I dunno, good karma or something. The universe will totally pay you back, and really, isn't that worth more than money?"

"No," he replies flatly. "Off, now."

"What if I name my firstborn after you? I don't mean to be arrogant but look at this face," she pouts, glancing to the left to show off her good side.

It doesn't work. The driver huffs impatiently and looks ready to physically toss her back onto the road if she doesn't remove herself. The situation is dire, and while Ava _really_ didn't want to play the orphan card...it's the last trick up her sleeve. She absolutely couldn't go back in there to beg Sister Francis for bus fare. The shame would be too great, even for her.

"I get it. Capitalism and all that. But it's not that I want to cheat the system...it's just that I don't have money. See over there?" Ava asks pointing to the orphanage. "I just got out today. All I have is a few clothes, a spare pair of shoes and well...me. I could offer you a ratty sweatshirt, or dirty runners with holes in them, but that's all I have. The orphanage isn't big on giving us handouts. I just..." she trails off with a sigh and a pathetic look on her face, "I just wanna get into town and hopefully find somewhere to sleep."

The truth is, she isn't lying. Saying it all out loud is actually rather depressing. But at the same time, these are all fixable problems. She will get into town (once the driver cuts her some slack), she’ll find a place to crash, and she’ll get a job. Things would work out. Somehow. Ava has never been big on the details, but she knows it will happen. One problem at a time, right?

The driver mutters a few choice words under his breath. "Alright fine," he eventually relents. "I'll take you."

"Yes!" Ava jumps, adding a little fist pump for good measure. "Good karma is heading your way my friend. You've done a great service an- "

"Just take a seat kid. You've already made me late."

Zipping her mouth shut, Ava sends him a clumsy salute and meanders her way down the bus taking her time to select the perfect seat. She knows from all the teen movies that you never want to sit at the front of the bus -- only the nerds did that -- and the back of the bus is for the badass kids. But looking at the back of the bus, it doesn't have the biggest windows, and she wants to see everything. The middle seems like a good compromise. Now she has to decide which side. She cou-

"SIT DOWN!"

"Ok, ok! Jeez, way to rush a girl on her first bus ride," Ava mutters, sliding into the closest bench on her right. "This better be a good seat."

It turns out to be a very good seat. While the scenery is nothing spectacular, she does manage to be out of sniffing distance of the flatulent gentlemen who sits at the front of the bus, and out of striking distance of the prepubescent brats who sit at the back. All in all, it's an excellent strategic choice and it seems that her good day is on track to become a great one.

Hopping off the bus at the busiest stop in town (well she assumes it is...everyone else jumps off there, so she kinda just goes with it), she immediately searches for a map of the area. An idea had struck her on the ride, and while she knows it's a long shot, it's really the only vague outline of a plan she has.

Finding what she's looking for, she sets off with a renewed sense of purpose, dodging and weaving through the tourists that mill around the Plaza de Espana. The sun is high in the sky, and she welcomes the warmth as it beats down on her in the early afternoon. Her feet are already beginning to blister, unused to so much walking in her ratty shoes, but she doesn't let it deter her. She's a woman on a mission dammit, and she will not be denied.

Almost forty minutes later she comes to a stop outside of a dingy looking dive bar. The "Open" sign flickers in neon, and a group of inebriated tourists stumble out into her path. She quickly jumps out of the way, wrinkling her nose at their foul stench. If that's what alcohol smells like, she isn't sure she wants to try it after-all.

Wiping the sweat off her forehead Ava takes a deep breath and cautiously enters the bar, her eyes scanning the room anxiously. The place is oddly empty, not a person in sight. How on earth did it make money? Actually, perhaps that explains the less than impressive decor.

"Hello Ava."

Ava's heart leapt in her throat as she slowly turns around.

_Oh shit._

\----

**_1 day later_ **

Clutching a thick manila folder in her hands, Beatrice stares up at the dilapidated stone building in front of her. She can hear babies wailing in the background, and the faint whiff of urine and unwashed bed sheets floats past her nose. While she knows it's far out of her purview, Beatrice can't help but wonder what sort of care the children in this establishment receive.

Throwing a quick glance to the black SUV that idles in the parking lot, Beatrice knows she has to get on with things. Squaring her shoulders, she marches into the orphanage, barrelling towards the administration office with single-minded focus. The sticky linoleum floors squeak under her well-heeled boots, and she wills herself not to wonder _why_ they are so sticky.

Someone is puttering around the office as Beatrice comes to a halt in front of it, and she doesn't think twice before ducking her head into the dimly lit room. "Hello," she greets the woman inside. "Sister Francis I presume?"

"Yes, that's me. And you are?"

Beatrice smiles politely as she extends her hand. "Jane Smith. I'm with Child Services."

Sister Francis accepts her handshake with a curt nod, the nun's eyes narrowing at the folder tucked securely under Beatrice's arm. "I see. And what can I help you with Miss Smith?"

"I was hoping to speak with one of the wards in your care. A girl by the name of Ava Silva."

"Ava Silva?"

"Yes."

Sister Francis frowns and gestures for Beatrice to join her in her office, away from prying eyes and ears. Closing the door behind them the nun takes her seat behind her desk and motions for Beatrice to take the seat opposite her.

"And what is it you want with Ava?"

Beatrice bristles at the question. From the moment she had walked into the orphanage she had felt unsettled, a cold feeling of dread seeping into her bones. This woman, this Sister Francis, just amplified that feeling. Her eyes are beady and devoid of any genuine warmth or emotion, and Beatrice wonders if they ought to put this nun on their watch list too. In fact, she may raise the issue with Superion when they get back to the office.

For now though, she must focus on the mission: retrieving Ava Silva.

"With all due respect Sister Francis, I don't see how that is any of your concern."

"I am the director of St Michael's and the girls are under my care. Of course it is my concern."

Well, Beatrice has to concede that she has a point there. "Very well. There is a family that is interested in adopting her. I was sent to meet with Ava to assess whether it would be a good match for both parties."

Sister Francis' eyes twinkle with something akin to mirth. It unsettles Beatrice greatly. It's not that Beatrice has to always be the smartest person in the room but...she doesn't like when she isn't. And she certainly doesn't like it when someone clearly knows something she doesn't and finds amusement in that fact.

"Is that file you're clutching onto so tightly about Ava?" Sister Francis inquires, her head tilted curiously toward the manila folder.

"Again, I would ask that you do not concern yourself with matters that do not pertain to you. I am simply here to meet with Ava."

"Well, I'm afraid that will be quite impossible."

Beatrice grits her teeth, trying her best to remain impassive in the face of such a vexing woman. "And why is that?"

"Because," Sister Francis drawls almost mockingly, "Ava Silva packed her bags and left the orphanage yesterday morning. She'll be long gone by now. I would like to say that she'll be missed but..." the nun trails off, the implication hanging heavily in the air. "She was always a difficult girl. So ungrateful. Good riddance if you ask me."

Beatrice tenses at the nun's harsh words, instinctively wanting to protect young Ava from the older woman's malice. But the impulse flits away just as quickly as reality crashes down on her, stealing the breath from her lungs as she belatedly processes the nun's words.

If the woman was telling the truth...this was not good. This was not good _at all._

"I'm sorry...SHE WHAT?!" Beatrice exclaims, shooting up from her chair, her fists tightly clenched at her sides. "How do you let an EIGHT YEAR OLD CHILD just walk out of an orphanage?!"

Sister Francis stares back at her, momentarily lost for words. Seconds later, her eyes narrow in suspicion. "Where did you say you were from again?"

\----

**_1 day earlier_ **

"Is it done?" A distorted voice asks over the phone.

A man leans against a sticky counter, his lips pulled into a lazy smirk as he stares at the teen in front of him. "It's done."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I’m back with chapter 2 (obviously)
> 
> This took a little longer than I would have liked because I wanted to make sure I wasn't creating any plot holes (I *hate* plot holes) and there was still some set up that needed to be done. I’m not super happy with it, but I ultimately decided to suck it up and knock it out anyway so that we can progress with the story. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy it, and thanks for coming back :)

Beatrice storms out of the orphanage, a torrent of questions from Sister Francis echoing faintly behind her. The gravel crunches underneath her feet as she makes her way back towards the black SUV, her face as dark as thunder. Crows wheel through the grey skies above, their cawing almost seeming to mock her.

It's infuriating.

Throwing the door open, Beatrice flops gracelessly into the backseat and slams it shut behind her. "We have a problem," she announces, tossing the manila folder onto the floor and stomping on it for good measure.

Camila turns around from her place in the front seat with a frown on her face. "Where's the girl?"

_"That's_ the problem."

The occupants of the car stare back at her expectantly, but Beatrice just needs a moment. Nothing makes sense, and she isn't used to being caught off guard. She's meticulous, she doesn't make mistakes. So how on God's green earth could this have happened?

Taking a deep breath Beatrice closes her eyes and rests her forehead against the cool window, replaying her conversation with Sister Francis over and over. It never makes a difference though, no matter how many times she runs through the exchange, no matter how many different angles she tries to approach it from.

The result is still the same. Somewhere along the line, they had messed up.

"We have a problem," Beatrice repeats tersely, still in disbelief that all of their careful planning had ended in this absolute clusterfuck.

Lilith turns to face her, looking wholly unimpressed. "How helpful Beatrice. I feel like we all understand the situation so much better now," she deadpans. "You've really painted a picture as to why you're here _without_ the package."

"Lilith! She's a girl, not an object!" Camila chastises from her place in the front seat. She swivels around to face Lilith, her sweet face almost daring the older woman to continue slandering the missing child.

"I don- "

"Both of you, shut it!" Mary cuts in, glaring at Camila and Lilith before they could start an argument that is sure to end in Camila's tears. "Beatrice, explain. Quickly."

Lifting her head from the window, Beatrice sighs and rubs her forehead in irritation. "Ava isn't there because she apparently left yesterday morning."

The reaction in the car varies from polite confusion to outright incredulity.

"How?"

"The fuck?!"

"Oh dear! Was she adopted for real?"

Beatrice laughs mirthlessly at Camila's innocent question. "No. She walked out on her own."

"How does an eight-year old j- "

"BECAUSE SHE'S NOT EIGHT!" Beatrice exclaims, the weight of the discovery chipping away at the last vestiges of her self-control. "Our intelligence was wrong. This girl, Ava, isn't eight. She's _eighteen."_

The three other occupants of the car turn to stare at Beatrice utterly gobsmacked. She couldn't blame them. She herself was speechless for almost a full minute after Sister Francis had laid that bomb on her.

"I don't-" Camila shakes her head as if the clear the fog that has suddenly descended. "I don't understand. Did we get the name wrong? Perhaps there is a different Ava in there that we are meant to retrieve? Or someone else with the surname Silva?"

"No. It's definitely Ava Silva we are after."

Mary taps her fingers on the steering wheel, seemingly deep in thought. "When did you say she walked outta there?"

"Yesterday morning according to Sister Francis."

"Is that right," Mary murmurs, sharing a loaded glance with Lilith. "And we trust this woman?"

"Why would she lie?" Camila asks. "She's a nun."

"Well something isn't right. Either the OCS gave us bad information or..." Lilith trails off, clenching her jaw at the thought of her next words. "Or, we've been set up. I don't like either of those possibilities to be honest."

Beatrice couldn't help but agree with Lilith's assessment. Either the OCS had their wires crossed -- which is not a good look for an organization that prides itself on gathering top secret intelligence -- or they've been sabotaged. The thought of having a mole in their midst is something that Beatrice doesn't even want to consider. The very nature of their work is fraught with danger. You need to be able to trust your team to keep you safe. If someone is betraying them...their lives, and the lives of many others are in jeopardy.

The horrifying realization strikes Beatrice squarely in the chest and as she looks around the van, she knows she isn't the only one thinking it.

Mary, as always, is more than happy to voice her feelings out loud. "Well, we're fucked."

"Language," Camila admonishes softly from her place in the front seat.

"Sorry. Let me re-phrase: We're totally, completely, royally fucked."

"What a mess," Lilith shakes her head.

"And I even brought her cookies," Camila says sadly, holding up a Tupperware filled to the brim with treats. "I baked them myself."

Whatever profanity-laden diatribe Mary was about to launch into is quickly abandoned as she stares at Camila with an incredulous look on her face. "Wait. You've had those this entire time?"

"Of course. I didn't just conjure them out of thin air."

"Oh come on!" Mary exclaims, smacking a hand against the steering wheel. "I've been saying for _hours_ that I was starving! You never thought to offer me one?"

Camila stares down their team leader, refusing to give an inch. "They are for Ava!" she defends stubbornly, slapping Mary's hand away as she tries to reach for one. "You would take cookies away from a child?"

"Newsflash: she isn't a child!"

"Well _now_ we know that."

"I swear to fucking god," Mary grumbles as gives up her quest for a cookie and throws the car into reverse, not even deigning to give Camila a proper response.

As the black SUV peels out of the parking lot, Beatrice finds herself staring glumly out of her window. "Where are you Ava?" she murmurs, her brain still mulling over all the endless possibilities that could have led to their failure today. Perhaps if she mentally retraces their steps, she can figure out the moment where it all went so horribly wrong.

Maybe it all started when they were assigned this ridiculous mission to begin with. Why Superion thought it was necessary to send her top squad to essentially retrieve a child _\-- woman --_ and deliver her like a package was beyond her. They weren't bloody FedEx.

Regardless, they still have a job to do and Beatrice is nothing if not committed. They would complete this mission, and they would do it to the best of their abilities. But the incident report...well, she couldn't promise there wouldn't be a few choice words peppered throughout that.

Absently, her eyes drift off to the side and catch sight of a bus pulling away from a stop outside of the orphanage. An inexplicable feeling takes over Beatrice, and her frustration melts away in an instant. As the vehicle trundles further down the road, it is as though an invisible string is tugging at her, and she is powerless to resist it. Instinctively, Beatrice just _knows_ what their next steps should be.

With a renewed sense of purpose Beatrice leans forward, wedging herself between the centre console. "Mary?"

"Yeah?"

"Follow that bus."

Mary raises her eyebrow at the request but complies, speeding up behind the dusty vehicle as Beatrice reclines back into her seat. She steals a glance over at Lilith who seems to be just as lost in her thoughts as Beatrice. She can tell the ordeal has unsettled the older woman greatly. She also knows that Lilith is often privy to more than she lets on. But you don't push Lilith. She can turn into an absolute beast if she feels threatened. No, Beatrice will bide her time for now and just hope that _if_ Lilith knows something, that she will share it with the class. Sooner rather than later preferably.

"Would anyone like some sweet nettle tea?" Camila asks as she settles in for the pursuit.

Mary glances over at her with a sour look on her face. "What, you're not saving it for the child?" she asks mockingly.

"Well now you're certainly not getting a cookie Mary."

\----

**_1 day earlier_ **

"Hello Ava."

Ava's heart leapt in her throat as she slowly turns around.

_Oh shit._

There, standing before her is someone she had hoped to never see again. It's not that Ava is a bad person per se...but, she _may_ have done some things in the past that she wasn't proud of and well...karma could be a bitch it seems.

Instinctively Ava finds herself inching towards the door, mentally mapping out the perfect escape route. "Zori. Um...hey," she smiles timidly, punctuating her greeting with an awkward little wave. "Long time no see."

Zori stares at her in that intimidating way she always had since they were young, like Ava were nothing more than day old gum stuck to the bottom of her shoes. It has been three years, and yet suddenly Ava is transported back to the orphanage as though it was yesterday, still just a pathetic child trailing after the Queen Bee of St Michael's.

"You're not going to take off on me again are you?" Zori asks, smirking as if she knows exactly what Ava is planning.

"No!" _Yes._

Zori raises a disbelieving eyebrow. "Really?"

"I've changed."

God, she's a big fat liar sometimes. You would think she would be better at it with all the practice she's had, but one look at Zori and Ava can tell she isn't buying the shit Ava is selling.

Sighing heavily Zori shakes her head and backs away. "Sure you have Silva."

"I- "

"It doesn't matter. I'm over it ok? It was a long time ago."

Ava frowns at her response. Did she really think that?

It felt like only yesterday that the two of them had broken into Sister Francis' office, feeling bold and intoxicated by the idea of freedom. The rumour that she kept over a thousand dollars in an unlocked drawer next to the filing cabinet was too good an opportunity to pass up, and the minute it was lights out, the two planned their big Ocean's 2 moment. But it all came crashing down when they tripped an alarm (seriously, what kind of nun sets an alarm in her office?) and Ava had to make a choice. They say that people have a fight or flight instinct, and it seems that Ava's is primarily flight. She took off that night and left Zori to deal with the fallout on her own, and never once tried to help her friend out.

The next day she heard that Zori was kicked out of the orphanage with nothing but the clothes on her back and enough cash for bus fare into town. Ava regretted her choices, but it was too late to help her Zori at that point. Nothing would be gained, and everything would be lost. Her actions had weighed on her heavily since then, but eventually she had made peace with it.

Granted, it wasn't difficult to make peace with it when she thought she would never see Zori again. It was much easier to ignore the consequences of her shitty actions when she thought those consequences would never catch up with her.

Ava shifts on her feet, confusion written plainly on her face. "Was it though?"

"Are you trying to talk me out of it?"

"No...I mean, I don't know? I feel like I'm being punked."

Zori seems amused by her honesty. "That's fair. But seriously, it's the past. Look at me," she says, twirling for effect and showing off her designer clothes. "I've made something of myself. I couldn't have done that if I stayed slumming it at St Michael's. God, I swear Sister Demon was gonna kill me if I was there much longer."

Ava nods, a humourless laugh escaping her. "I'm like ninety percent sure she did try to kill me once or twice in my sleep."

"She always was shit at her job."

Ava laughs at the joke, taking the opportunity to really drink in this new and improved Zori. She seems to hold no malice in her eyes, and her smile is open and genuine. It's honestly throwing Ava a little bit. She looks...happy. Carefree. Which is very un-Zori like. But who was Ava to question a second chance? Maybe her old friend is now rolling with the kumbaya crew or something.

It didn't really matter to Ava how or why Zori came to forgive her. If she has moved on from their little misunderstanding, then Ava wouldn't have to carry that guilt any longer. And frankly, the less emotional baggage she has to haul around, the better. So Ava is gonna cling onto this olive branch with both hands. No questions asked.

After all, taking the easy way out is kinda her thing.

"Soooo just to confirm," Ava starts tentatively, "we're cool right?"

Zori punches her softly on the shoulder. "It's all good kid."

"All good in the 'hood," Ava replies goofily, flashing her friend a toothy grin. She settles herself against a nearby table, clumsily righting herself after she almost tips over. "Oh my god!" she exclaims, glaring at the teetering table as though it personally offended her. "You should really fix that. It's a lawsuit waiting to happen. Not everyone is going to have my superior reflexes."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't you work here?"

"This dump? Please," she replies, flipping her blonde hair as if to dislodge the stench of stale cigarette smoke that permeates the air. "No, I'm just here to visit Chanel. Same as you I suppose?"

Ava nods as she puts a safe distance between herself and the table from hell. "Yeah. She told me when I got out that if I needed a place to stay, she might be able to help me out. I thought it would be a long shot seeing as it's been like three years, but I hoped she would still be here."

Zori shrugs. "I mean, it's her uncle's place and it's a steady paycheck. She has no reason to leave really. And it's the least he could do for her after leaving her to grow up in St Michael's."

"You got that right. Asshole."

Ava spins around at the familiar voice, her heart filling with happiness at the sight of her favourite person. "CHANEL!"

"Ava darling!" Chanel smiles, sweeping Ava up into an exuberant hug and planting kisses on both of her cheeks. "I've missed you kiddo."

"I've missed you too."

"I'm glad you came to find me. Do you need a place to stay?" Chanel asks, with a glance towards the duffel bag discarded by Ava's feet.

"Yes please."

"Say no more. My couch is all yours."

Ava beams, her feet doing a little dance as she shuffles forward to envelop the taller girl in another hug. "Thanks! I owe you one. My first paycheck maybe?"

Chanel waves her off with a laugh. "You owe me nothing of the sort Ava Silva. Though speaking of a job...I'm afraid I can't help you out much with that. Business hasn't exactly been hopping lately. But you can stay with me for as long as you need."

It feels like a grin has been permanently plastered on Ava's face all day, that's how happy she feels. She doesn't know what she's done to deserve such kindness, and such great friends, but she certainly isn't going to look this gift horse in the mouth.

"You're the best. And I swear, you won't even know I'm there," Ava assures her. "I'll be the most awesome roomie ever."

Zori snorts. "Yeah, just lock up your valuables."

"Hey! It took two to thieve!"

"Really? Because I recall only one of us- "

"You said you forgave me!"

"Doesn't mean I can't throw it in your face though," Zori shrugs with a good-natured smile.

Ava laughs, happy that they can now joke about it. "Fuck you."

"You wish."

A voice clears behind them. "Out of curiosity, who do _I_ need to fuck to get a drink around here?"

Ava furrows her brows at the unfamiliar voice as she turns to find a complete stranger lingering near the bar. Was he there the entire time? She _swears_ this place was empty when she walked in, but apparently, she needs to work on her observation skills given she has three people standing in front of her right now.

God help her if she's ever actually in danger.

"Oh shit!" Zori exclaims, her eyes wide and apologetic. "Sorry, I totally forgot you were here!"

"Thanks Zori," the man replies dryly, though his dark eyes sparkle with mischief. "Hello, I don't believe we've been introduced," he hints unsubtly as his gaze swings between Zori and Ava.

Zori rolls her eyes but obliges anyway. "Ava, this is my friend JC. JC, this is Ava."

JC extends his hand towards her, his mouth pulled into a flirtatious smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you Ava."

Returning his handshake, Ava smiles as her gaze sweeps over his handsome profile. He's well-dressed in a way that screams money, and his expensive cologne clings to him, though not in a suffocating way. He seems nice enough, even if he is friends with Zori.

"You too," she replies politely.

"So," he starts, inching closer to Ava as though itching to reach out for her hand again. "I couldn't help but overhear that you may be searching for a job?"

"Do you make a habit of eavesdropping on people's conversations?"

JC laughs, though his ears turn red with embarrassment. "Well no, but you weren't exactly in the most private setting."

Dammit, he had her there. "Point taken," Ava concedes reluctantly. "Go on."

"Well, as I was saying...I could help you out with a job if you like?"

Ava could not believe her fortune. Today wasn't just a good day, or even a great one. It's a day for the all-time record books. She's walking on goddamn sunshine.

"Oh my god, yes!" she exclaims, bouncing on her feet with barely restrained excitement. "That would be amazing!"

"Don't you want to know what it is first?" JC asks, thoroughly amused as his eyes linger on Ava just a touch too long to be considered friendly.

"I mean, as long as it's not shovelling shit then I'm sure it's fine."

"Oh my god Ava," Zori mutters, hiding her head behind her hands in embarrassment. Chanel merely chuckles as she leans back on a nearby chair, clearly happy that Ava won't be on her couch indefinitely.

JC laughs as he shakes his head. "It's not shovelling shit."

"Then great. I'm in."

"Ok then," JC nods, grinning with delight. "Well, let me make a call, and we can get it all settled. Start tomorrow?"

"The sooner I can make money, the better."

JC looks pleased with her answer, and Ava has an inkling that whatever job he has lined up for her involves a lot of time spent with him. She may be inexperienced, but she's not an idiot. She can tell when someone is checking her out. The guy is clearly interested in her and honestly? As long as he isn't a creep about it, she doesn't care. It's flattering to receive his attention, even if she doesn't really think he's her type. She's been out of St Michael's for not even a day and some rich dude is totally into her. Life could be worse.

As JC steps away to call his boss, Zori tilts her chin towards the bar. "Chanel, how about a round of drinks on me? We should celebrate."

Chanel smiles as she slips behind the counter with a practiced ease and pulls out a bottle of tequila and four shot glasses. "You ready for this kid?"

"Uhh...I guess. Wait, is that alcohol?" Ava asks curiously as she leans forward for a better look, vaguely remembering something from the movies about tequila and the floor. "Besides, what are we celebrating?"

"You," JC replies as he slides back down to their end of the bar and rests against the sticky counter. He waits until the shots are lined up and raises his in salute. "A toast -- to Ava!"

"To Ava!"

\----

Deep in the heart of the business district, a man in a well-pressed suit hesitantly knocks on a frosted glass door before letting himself into a sparsely decorated office. "I am sorry to bother you but...there has been a setback."

"Your ambush failed," an imposing figure replies matter-of-factly.

"No," he shakes his head, slightly hurt by the lack of faith from his employer. "We didn't get the chance. The OCS never showed at the orphanage or the exchange point. We waited for hours, but nothing. We don't believe they were tipped off to our presence. In fact, our intelligence suggests they never attempted the mission at all."

"How is that possible? You assured me your sources were infallible. The OCS were to retrieve the girl today and make the exchange with the Americans."

"Their orders must have changed. Perhaps because..." he trails off, wiping the sweat from his brow as he poises to deliver the bad news, "it seems as though the child is missing."

"...missing?"

The man licks his lips nervously before nodding. "Yes."

The silence in the room is deafening as that single word hangs in the air, threatening to tear years of careful planning apart.

"If the OCS don't have her, and we don't have her, THEN WHERE THE HELL IS SHE?"

\----

**_In a dingy bar halfway across town..._ **

"One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, FLOOOORRRRRR!!!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> If you have questions/requests/wanna say hi you can find me on Tumblr @ memento-vivere-20


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I'm soooo sorry this chapter took so long. I'm moving and it turns out that boxes don't pack themselves?! Shocked and appalled by this development frankly.
> 
> So I'm not really happy with this chapter, but glaring at my screen didn't improve it, so I thought I should just post it so we could all move on to the fun stuff coming up in the future chapters lol
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!!!

Beatrice has lost track of just how long they've been trailing after the slow moving bus, but it's clear to her that Mary is getting irritated with their lack of action. It's a known fact that their team leader prefers to jump into a situation shotguns blazing, so to simply sit behind the wheel and wait is clearly doing a number on her restraint.

"So...are we planning to just follow this bus indefinitely, or do we have an actual plan?" Mary finally asks the team, her mouth twisting into a deep scowl.

Camila, who had been tapping away at her tablet incessantly for the better part of the journey looks up at Mary's words. "Well...I might," she answers shyly. "I've been recording the bus stop numbers to see if I can find the corresponding security cameras for each one. It will take time, but it should show us where she disembarked. After we know that, we can track her from there.”

Mary glances over at Camila, clearly impressed. "That's...actually kind of genius Cam.”

"Thank you.”

Beatrice shifts forward in her seat, another thought that had been brewing the entire drive simmering to the surface. She had spent much of her life growing up in metropolitan cities -- London, Paris, Geneva, Rome -- and as such, taking public transit was practically second nature for her. She just _knew_ she had this covered.

"I also had a thought should Camila run into any difficulties. Often, a bus driver will be assigned to the same route all day. Sometimes all week, or longer.”

"Thrilling," Lilith quips from her place beside her.

Beatrice ignores her and plows ahead. "Naturally, the number of drivers involved depends on how many buses service a route and so forth but regardless, this driver should at least know who we could speak to if it wasn't he himself who drove Ava yesterday."

"So we wait until this guy reaches the end of the line and interrogate him. Sounds solid," Mary nods, happy to finally have a tangible plan. "We find out where and when she jumped off the bus, and Cam picks up her trail with the CCTV cameras."

"I'm sorry, but am I the only one who sees the massively glaring flaw in this plan?" Lilith pipes up, her gaze swinging between Mary and Beatrice with no small amount of incredulity. "We don't know what she looks like. How are we supposed to recognize her from security footage when we don't even know who we are looking for?"

"Oh," Camila replies softly, looking crestfallen. "She has a point. The only photo the OCS provided us with was one of an eight year old Ava. Given everything that has happened since then, I don't think we can say with any certainty that the girl in the photo is in fact Ava Silva."

Mary pounds her fist on the steering wheel in frustration. "Fuck!" she exclaims, her anger bubbling to the surface. "We may as well toss the whole fucking dossier out the fucking window."

Beatrice can't help but agree. There is absolutely no reason to believe that any of the information in that folder is accurate when it comes to Ava Silva. They're flying blind which is not something any of them -- least of all Beatrice -- are fond of doing.

But just because things are challenging, it doesn't mean they are impossible. The mission has become more difficult than any of them had anticipated, but that just means the victory will be so much sweeter when they succeed against all odds. And they _will_ succeed. Beatrice will make sure of it.

"All is not lost," she reassures her team, a determined glint in her eye. "When we speak to the driver, we can ask him to give us a description. And then perhaps Camila might be able to draw up a sketch from any information he provides."

"It's not really my specialty, but...I could try."

"That's all I ask. And with a general description, we can add that to what we already know to aid our search on the CCTV camera."

Lilith furrows her brows as she glances over at her. "What do you mean? What do we already know?"

"Well," Beatrice starts, "we know that she will most likely be travelling alone and carrying light luggage. A backpack or a duffel maybe? So once we have a description and the information about when she took the bus and which stop she disembarked from, we can narrow it down from there."

"Ok," Mary nods decisively. "It ain't much, but it's something."

"Yes, I think I can work with that," Camila pipes up as she does an excited little jiggle. She flips on the radio absently and the sound of N'Sync’s _Bye Bye Bye_ fills the air.

"Oh hell no!"

"Absolutely not!"

Camila lowers the volume as she looks at the other occupants of the car. "I take requests," she says sweetly as she waves her phone in the air.

"I request silence."

Camila's eyes light up at Lilith's words. "Ooooh the Sarah McLachlan song? I adore it. So beautifully haunting don't you think?" she babbles as she searches Spotify for the tune.

"No," Lilith replies through gritted teeth, "I meant the only thing I want to hear is the sound of silence."

"Oh! Simon and Garfunkel!" Camila exclaims, quickly navigating to the classic rock section instead. "Or wait...did you mean the metal version by the Disturbed?"

Mary looks over in surprise. "There's a metal version?"

"Oh yes! I don't mind it actually. There is also a piano cover by Nouela which is very soothing."

"Is that the one from Trolls?"

"You watched Trolls?" Beatrice asks Mary, not even trying to hide her surprise.

"Long flight."

"I loved that movie!" Camila declares, practically giddy with excitement. "But I think Anna Kendrick sang that one."

"Well I like _that_ version."

"Ok, let me just pull it up ri- "

Lilith reaches forward and snatches Camila's phone out of her hand with a scowl. "No music," she growls, glaring at the rest of the occupants in the car for good measure. "Anna Troll or otherwise."

Camila visibly deflates as she turns back around in her seat with a huff. "And they say the Grinch only comes out at Christmas," she mutters, a small pout on her face.

Beatrice swallows a smile as she stares out the window, her mind once more drifting to the sheer amount of chaos that has erupted in only a few short hours of undertaking this assignment. By now their mission should've been complete. Instead of trailing after a dusty bus to who knows where, they should be on their way back to headquarters squabbling about who was buying the takeout this week. Yet here they are, chasing after a faceless teen who most likely doesn't even want to be found.

Once this is over and done with, Beatrice swears she never wants to hear the name _Ava Silva_ again.

Twenty minutes later, the bus pulls over into a densely populated parking lot around the corner from a bustling transfer hub. Beatrice glances around as they all hop out of the car, taking note of the rush of tourists that swarm the sidewalks and the ever present clamour of vendors trying to sell their wares.

"Lilith and Camila, you both wait here," Mary instructs as she holsters her shotguns. "Beatrice, you're with me."

"What are we supposed to do? Keep watch over the car?" Lilith asks snidely as she gingerly stretches her long limbs, sore after being cramped in the backseat of the SUV for hours.

"Perhaps we should get Mary some food?" Camila suggests sweetly as she looks over at their team leader. "I know how hungry you are."

Mary narrows her eyes at the most junior member of their team. "You really wanna start with me again? "

"I'm just trying to be helpful!"

With a loud exhale Mary strides towards the bus driver, leaving them without so much as a backwards glance. "Beatrice, let's move."

Beatrice scurries after her team leader without a second thought, just grateful to have something useful to do. She hopes Mary will let her take the lead on the interrogation. As wonderful as Mary was in other aspects of the job, her social skills left much to be desired.

"Hey!" Mary yells at the driver the moment he steps off his bus and instantly Beatrice cringes.

"Mary," she murmurs quietly, "perhaps a gentler approach would be best?"

"We don't have time for gentle."

"I just think- "

"I got this Beatrice. Trust me," Mary says, a determined glint in her eye. As they reach the driver, she reaches out to shake his hand. "Hey, how you doin?"

"Uh...fine thanks. You?"

"Dandy. Listen, we're lookin' for a girl."

"Aren't we all," the driver snorts.

Mary looks at him, clearly unimpressed. "She's missing alright? And we need to find her. We think she rode the bus yesterday. This exact route. Did you drive it or someone else?"

"I did."

Excited, Beatrice can't help but jump into the conversation. "Then perhaps you would remember her. You would have picked her up yesterday morning outside of St Michael's Orphanage."

The bus driver furrows his brows deep in thought before his face clears, and he sighs heavily. "Oh yeah. If it's who I think it is, she's not a kid you easily forget. Real pain in the ass. Dropped her off at the main transfer hub from memory."

"How old would you say she was? Eighteen?"

"Probably. I dunno, I didn't ask for I.D."

"It must be her," Beatrice whispers to Mary. Standing up straighter she clears her throat and plasters on a pleasant smile for the driver. "I don't suppose you could provide us with a physical description?"

"Would there be any compensation involved?"

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" Mary growls. "A kid is missing and you want money?"

"Hey! She stiffed me the bus fare! I had to pay out of my own pocket," he whines. "It's only fair."

Mary rolls her eyes but digs into her pocket for some loose change. "Will this cover it?"

"Yeah, that'll do."

"Great. Now will you provide our sketch artist with some details?" Mary asks, and Beatrice can tell she's doing her absolute best not to knock the man's teeth out. Honestly, she can't say she blames her for the impulse.

"Sure, sure."

Mary waves Camila over before turning to Beatrice. "Go check out the area with Lilith. See if anything stands out to you. Once we're done here we'll come find you."

Beatrice nods and smiles as Camila skips past her with a beaming grin on her face. Sometimes Beatrice wonders how someone as sweet as Camila wound up in their line of work. But then she remembers the time Camila took down three grown men on her own, spitting on them for good measure, and she realizes that she doesn't know Camila as well as she thinks she does.

There's always more to someone's story. Always.

\----

Ava blinks as something bright flashes in her eyes, sending a searing pain through her skull. Is she dead? Did she just go toward the shining light? Ugh, why did she do that?! Stupid, _stupid_ Ava. You _never_ go towards the light. Every half dead person knows that.

But no, she couldn't be dead. They say that death feels like a sweet release, but this feels more like a sledgehammer to the brain. Or what she imagines a sledgehammer to the brain would feel like.

Tentatively she opens her eyes again, only to be met by the same harsh dazzling light that practically blinded her before. Slamming her eyes shut she attempts to bury her face into the couch cushions, yet somehow winds up eating the dusty carpet floor instead.

Is that a dead bug? _Gross._

"Oh my god," she groans, "what is wrong with me? I want death."

"I adore you darling, but I must say you look like it too," Chanel says from her place in the kitchen. "Why are you on the floor?"

"Gravity," Ava croaks as she flops around onto her back, glaring at the offending bright light. "Why is the sun so shiny? It hurtsssss," she whines, throwing her arm over her eyes. "Make it stop Chanel. Please make it all stop."

Gracefully striding into the living area, Chanel bends down to Ava's level with a gentle smile on her face. "Here. Have some water and take these."

Opening one eye suspiciously, Ava glares at the proffered glass. "You're sure that's water?"

"What else would it be?"

"I dunno. The devil's juice that you made me drink all night."

"Ava Silva, don't you dare try to pin this on me," Chanel replies sternly as she shoves the glass and ibuprofen into her hands. "You would not be stopped."

Ava huffs as she downs the water and the painkillers, refusing to give Chanel the satisfaction of a response. It's so annoying when people make her take responsibility for her own actions.

Chanel, to her credit, doesn't take offence to Ava's grouching. Watching the teen with fond amusement, she lets her flop around on the ground dramatically, waiting until the moaning stops before she starts speaking again. "You may want to hurry things along darling. JC will be here soon."

Cracking an eye open, Ava shifts from her place on the floor. "Who?"

"Tall, handsome, offered you a job?" Chanel reminds her with a smile. "He's picking you up for your first day."

Her eyes practically bug out of her head. "Oh shit! I totally forgot!"

"Well you're off to a great start."

Suddenly feeling a burst of energy, Ava pushes herself up off the floor and dashes to the bathroom. "Would you mind grabbing me a towel?"

"Yes princess, no princess, three bags full princess," Chanel mutters as she rummages through the linen closet for a spare towel. "Once you're done in the shower we can head down to the little bakery on the corner. I need something greasy after last night, and I'm sure JC will be more than happy to spring for it on your big day."

At the thought of food Ava's stomach revolts. Suddenly it feels like anything she's ever eaten or even thought about eating is coming up and spraying all over Chanel's pristine white bathroom mat.

_Shit._

"That sounds gr-great," Ava replies, as she wipes her mouth with no small amount of disgust. She turns on the shower, hoping it will divert Chanel's attention as she desperately looks around for a way to clean up her mess.

"What's wrong?" Chanel asks suspiciously from the other side of the door.

"Nothing! Why would you think anything was wrong?"

Ava knows she sounds panicked, but she can't help it. Who knew so much stuff could come out of one person? She spies a hand towel hanging by the sink and is suddenly seized with inspiration. That should definitely do the trick.

...except it doesn't. It only serves to smear the puke even more across the previously spotless white mat, turning it into something Jackson Pollock would be proud of.

_Double shit._

"Are you sure everything is alright in there? Chanel calls.

"Yup! Everything is just great!"

"Ok," Chanel doesn't sound convinced, but appears to let it go. "Your towel is hanging up outside the door. And whatever you do, don't throw up on my bathmat!"

Ava glances down at the absolute mess she's created. "I won't!"

_Ok, think Silva._

Maybe she should just take it into the shower with her? Yeah, wash it out. That makes the most sense.

With a determined nod, Ava sheds her clothes and jumps into the shower dragging the vomit soaked bathmat with her. The water is only lukewarm but it's the least of her worries right now. She fumbles around with the various bottles in the stall, eventually deciding that shampoo would work best. Scrubbing with a vigour that the nuns at St Michael's would be proud of, she washes the mat until it's almost as good as new.

Except...now she has a soaking wet bathmat on her hands. Well, she could just put it back on the floor. She remembers the nuns at St Michael's always made a big deal about lifting sodden mats off the floor, but Ava never understood why they were so pedantic about it. After all, a bathmat's whole purpose is to soak up water, right?

Happy with her problem solving skills, she slaps it back on the tile floor and continues with her shower, washing away the grime from the day before. It felt nice to finally have some privacy after a lifetime of sharing morning showers with twenty other girls. Just another slice of that beautiful freedom pie.

After another ten minutes of basking in the glory of her own private shower, Ava reluctantly turns off the water and prepares to step out into the biting cold air. Psyching herself up to leave the warmth of the shower stall, Ava takes a deep breath and practically leaps out into the chill, only to find herself staring up at Chanel's speckled bathroom ceiling with a pain that could only be described as backbreaking.

_Holy fucking shit._

So _that's_ why people don't leave wet bathmats on the floor.

"Urghf," Ava groans, the pain radiating from her tailbone all the way up to her skull. "I hate my life."

"Ava? Are you ok? I hea- " Chanel bursts into the bathroom, her mouth gaping comically at the sight of a naked Ava rolling around on the tiles. "Why is it that every time I see you this morning, you're on the floor?"

"Science," Ava replies with a grimace, her eyes screwed shut as she tries to will away the pain. "Newton's laws still hard at work."

Chanel shakes her head as she tosses a towel at Ava in a subtle attempt to get her covered up. She sniffs loudly, a frown on her face. "Do I smell puke in here?"

Ava cracks an eye open at the question. "Ummm...nope. Don't think so. Maybe you're having a stroke? I hear the first thing to go is sense of smell."

The tall girl narrows her eyes, clearly having none of Ava's shit. "Did you throw up in here?"

"Me? Pfft no!"

Crossing her arms, Chanel raises an eyebrow as she stares Ava down. "You owe me thirty dollars for the bathmat."

"...ok."

\----

"Grab a table and start combing through the footage," Mary instructs the two youngest members of the squad as they enter a small cafe off the main strip. "Lilith and I will get the drinks."

Lilith looks set to argue with the order, but one glance at Mary and she promptly swallows her words. Beatrice watches with a frown as Lilith silently trails after their team leader, looking as though she's about to walk the plank.

"What about this one Beatrice? It's private and has a lovely view!" Camila sing-songs as she presents a table near the furthermost corner of the cafe with a flourish.

"It's perfect Camila."

"Yes, I thought so. And look -- our very own power outlet!"

Beatrice smiles indulgently as Camila sets herself up, an impressive array of technology seeming to appear out of her backpack in record time. She has no idea how such a tiny person manages to lug such heavy equipment around all the time, but Camila makes it look so easy. Camila makes all of her work look easy, as if hacking into the national security database or crashing an entire country's power grid is just a fun afternoon hobby for her. Beatrice is no slouch with technology, but Camila is truly on another level.

"I wonder what's going on there," Camila murmurs, her eyes focused on something across the cafe.

Beatrice frowns as she follows her gaze, finding Mary and Lilith in the middle of a tense conversation, their postures defensive and expressions unfriendly. She wasn't an idiot -- Beatrice had noticed things had been strained between the two women since they left the orphanage. But that wasn't anything new. There has always been tension between the two of them, and that tension had gone into overdrive since their last team leader's death.

Shannon was the beating heart of their squad, and when she died in action last year it devastated them all. It was the darkest moment in Beatrice's career, and she knew that night would haunt her for the rest of her life. But perhaps no one was as shattered by her demise as Mary. Shannon's death had left a wound so deep and so painful, that Beatrice didn't think Mary would ever truly recover.

After Shannon's death, Lilith had prepared herself to take on the role of team leader. It was generally assumed that she was next in line given she was practically OCS royalty. Five generations of Lilith's family had worked for the OCS, all of them achieving the highest ranks that could be attained. It only made sense that Lilith would be their next team leader.

The day that Mary was assigned in Shannon's role was probably the second darkest day in Beatrice's career at the OCS. She swore she was going to lose another teammate that day. A fight broke out in the training room, and actual blood was drawn. It was vicious, it was nasty, and it was personal. It took several other agents as well as Superion herself to break up the fight, and weeks for the two to even be able to operate on the same team again.

However, time passed and wounds healed. Lilith has since accepted the new chain of command, and the team operates almost as fluidly as they used to. Even so, Beatrice swears she sees Lilith's frustration slip through now and again.

Of course, the situation may not have become quite so dramatic had there not been romantic entanglements involved. While nothing had ever been overtly said, Beatrice knew that broken hearts and jealousies had only fanned the flames of the whole affair.

Frankly, it was amateurish. They were supposed to be professionals, and the OCS was a place of serious work. The last thing anyone needed on a life or death mission was petty romantic drama clouding their judgement, and yet that is exactly what Shannon, Mary and Lilith dragged around with them. They pretended otherwise, but Beatrice knew better.

Thank goodness _she_ has common sense. If there's one thing Beatrice knows for sure, it's that she will _never_ fall in love while on the job. Workplace romances are the hallmark of the undisciplined and reckless. Beatrice is the consummate professional, and she will never become distracted by something as silly as romance. She's better than that, and she prides herself on that fact.

"How's it coming along Cam?" Mary asks as she slides into the booth, her voice snapping Beatrice back to the present.

"Slow, but steady. I'm sure we'll have a hit soon though, and I'll be able to trace her location from there."

"That easy huh?"

"I wouldn't call it easy," Camila replies, looking mildly offended. "But the city having cameras on every street corner certainly helps."

Lilith leans forward, trying to make sense of the lines of code running on Camila's multiple screens. "So, as long as she stayed within the town centre we'll be able to track her down?"

"Yes."

"How can we help?"

"Well, if you would all like to watch the footage, it may go by quicker," Camila suggests, barely taking her eyes off of the tablet that rests in her lap. "We know the general time the driver dropped her off, but there many buses that use that hub, and a lot of people who disembark there. The more eyes the better."

Lilith nods as she settles into her seat and pulls out her tablet. "I always did enjoy Where's Waldo."

\----

**_One hour later_ **

Beatrice just _knows_ it's her.

She's smiling, a big beaming toothy grin, and her cheeks are dusted a delicate shade of pink. Her hair is messy and unkempt, yet somehow she manages to pull it off without looking homeless. And as the girl -- no Ava -- turns to look directly into the camera, Beatrice can't help but just stare at her silently, her eyes lost in the grip of that dark soulful gaze.

It's unnerving and Beatrice doesn't like this fluttering feeling in her stomach _at all_.

She clears her throat. "I think I've found her. I've found Ava."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> If you have questions/requests/wanna say hi you can find me on Tumblr @ memento-vivere-20


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm back! Sorry for the delay but I'm still packing for my move and turns out I'm really bad at it?!
> 
> But to make up for it, this chapter is longer than usual and finalllyyy Ava meets the OCS (and Bea of course!) 
> 
> Hopefully you enjoy it, and thanks for reading!

She’s loud.

That’s one of the first things Beatrice notices when she sees Ava Silva in the flesh. That and her blinding smile, which Beatrice is fairly certain could light up even the darkest room. Ava’s boisterous laugh echoes down the street to where the team are sitting in their tinted SUV and against her better judgement Beatrice finds herself itching to know just what is so damn funny.

Ava’s companions seem to find her highly amusing themselves. Especially the man. He can’t stop smiling down at her, always worming his way to stand by her side, and it’s a little pathetic in Beatrice’s opinion. Whatever happened to dignity and decorum? The girl may be entertaining, but she didn’t deserve to be fawned over in such a nauseating fashion.

The man chooses that moment to throw his head back and laugh, draping his arm around Ava briefly as though needing support to catch his breath. Beatrice rolls her eyes at the scene. She’s fairly certain that Ava is not _that_ hilarious.

“So which one is she?” Mary asks.

_The pretty one,_ she thinks.

_Wait, what?_

“The short one,” is what Beatrice says instead.

“With the obnoxious laugh?”

Well, Beatrice doesn’t know if she would call it obnoxious but…

“Yes, that’s the one,” she confirms.

Mary hums thoughtfully, her eyes curious as she tracks the trio in front of them. “I wonder who they are to her.”

“Friends from the orphanage I assume,” Beatrice replies, doing her level best to find a shred of professionalism. “She went looking for them after all.”

“They seem very lovely” Camila says with a smile as she watches a tall girl share her pastry with Ava. “I’m glad she has nice friends.”

“Well, I suppose she had to have something going for her.”

“Lilith!” Camila exclaims as she turns to glare at the older woman, looking positively offended on Ava’s behalf. “Don’t be mean!”

“She ain’t wrong though,” Mary frowns as she stares out of the window. “I mean, look at her. Are we absolutely sure that _this_ girl,” she jabs a finger towards where Ava is attempting to balance a bottle of water on her nose like a seal, “is the one we’re supposed to be protecting? Who the fuck would be after _that?”_

“The intelligence said we need to collect Ava Silva, and _that_ is Ava Silva.”

“Intelligence also said she was an eight year old girl, and look how that turned out,” Mary shot back.

Mary was absolutely correct, and it was something that was still niggling at the back of Beatrice’s mind. She still felt like an absolute fool and couldn’t help but think the OCS had made an absolute mockery of her and her entire team. Watching that smug nun practically laugh in her face was humiliating, and she doesn’t know when she will ever forget the abject embarrassment she felt in that moment.

How could the OCS have given them such faulty information? Why was the Ava Silva file so heavily redacted? Why is it that the only thing they know about this mission is that they need to collect and protect Ava, and deliver her to the Americans when the time is right?

The whole thing didn’t sit right with Beatrice at all, but at the same time there was nothing she could say or do about it. She didn’t have evidence of a conspiracy, and she couldn’t very well go around accusing unidentified members of the OCS of a crime that may not exist.

“It doesn’t make sense to me either,” Beatrice admits, “but Sister Francis was quite certain in her assertions. And she didn’t present any of the usual tells one does when they lie.”

“And she’s a nun,” Camila adds, as if that explained everything. “So this must be the right Ava Silva.”

“Look, this can go one of two ways,” Lilith interjects calmly. “Either there is a young eight year old girl who is still out there scared and alone, waiting for us to rescue her- “

“Oh dear!”

_“Or_ this is the correct Ava Silva, and she is just a fucking idiot. Personally, I’m inclined to go with the latter given everything we’ve been forced to witness over the last twenty minutes.”

“Yeah, you might be right,” Mary relents as she reclines back in her seat. “Also, is it just me, or do these people have a very distinct ‘bling ring gang’ vibe going on?” she asks, her head tilted pensively.

Lilith scoffs. “If they do, it’s a cheap knock off version at best. Although I’m not entirely sure what Ava is bringing to the table, aside from that big mouth.”

As if instinctively knowing her personality was just called into question, Ava proceeds to shove a whole pastry into her mouth, whooping in triumph as she succeeds. Beatrice really should not have found it as charming as she did.

“I’m just glad to see the girl knows how to keep a low profile,” Mary deadpans.

“Her friends are no better. Honestly, who wears a bandana and cape in broad daylight?” Lilith shakes her head as she watches the tall girl in a bright pink outfit flounce onto the road, strutting like a peacock who had just preened her feathers.

“Someone with a shit ton of confidence.”

“I like it,” Camila chimes in. “It suits her. They all look like they belong on the cover of Vogue.”

Beatrice rolls her eyes, pointedly ignoring the way that Ava playfully tosses her hair back and flashes a beaming smile towards the man’s phone. “Can we _please_ just focus on the mission? Regardless of whether she is acting like it or not, Ava is still in danger.”

“Agreed. And I don’t think we have time for subtlety this time around,” Mary adds, watching the trio’s little photo session with clear distaste. “Smash and grab ladies.”

Camila recoils at the imagery, always one for the gentler approach. “Is that really necessary? Wait,” she freezes as she stares at Beatrice with an alarmed expression on her face. “Why are you preparing the stun rings?”

Beatrice briefly glances towards their mark as she starts to suit up. “Because I have a feeling that Ava is going to be a handful.”

——

“So, I have questions,” Ava starts as she settles back into the plush leather seat, flipping her golden brown hair to one side as she subtly checks herself out in the side mirror.

_Damn_ Chanel had done a good job this morning. How her friend had managed to make her look like she had just stepped off the runway in just a pair of skinny jeans, a tee and a leather jacket was an absolute mystery, but Chanel always was good with fashion. And her hair and makeup were on point. Neutral and natural, just the way she liked it. She had to admit, she was definitely feeling good going into her first day of work.

It felt like she had finally gotten her shit together. Everything was going perfectly, and nothing was going to bring her down.

Techno music blared out from the speakers as JC sped them through the streets towards…somewhere. His office maybe? Ava had forgotten to press for more details until after she was all buckled in, but she figured it didn’t really matter anyway. A job was a job, and if her position paid half as well as JC’s well…maybe she could spring for a hybrid by Christmas. Or a Tesla maybe? Although she had heard Elon Musk was kind of a jerk.

“What exactly is it that you do?”

JC looks over at her with a smirk on his face. “I thought you didn’t care as long as it wasn’t…how did you put it? Shoveling shit?”

Ava shrugs, her lips tugging up in a smile. “What can I say? I don’t like to get my hands dirty.”

“Fair enough.”

“So am I?” Ava prompts him, not finding his evasiveness in any way charming. She knew some girls dug the whole mysterious vibe, but it really wasn’t working for her right now.

“Are you what?”

“Going to be getting my hands dirty?”

“No, I told you- “

“I mean, I wanna make sure I’m not gonna be doing anything illegal.” When JC doesn’t answer, Ava asks him again. “Am I?”

JC laughs, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “No.”

Ava feels the tension instantly leak from her shoulders at his firm reassurance. “Ok good. Because growing up in St Michael’s was kind of a downer, and I’m really not looking to go back into a prison-like situation.”

Nodding thoughtfully, JC taps his fingers on the wheel a few times. “Well, you won’t be going to prison. I don’t do anything exciting. I just work in the technology industry.”

Technology industry? Well, that sounded safe enough. And that was a pretty sweet gig from what she had seen on tv shows. They always got paid really well for doing what looked like a few taps on the keyboard and a whole lot of coffee drinking.

Then again, technology was still kind of vague. Maybe she should clarify what _kind_ of technology. She could be working at a nuclear reactor for all she knew.

“Doing what exactly?”

“It’s hard to explain. _But,”_ JC rushes to continue as he sees Ava about to complain, “once we get to the office, I can show you everything. You’ll see exactly what you’ll be doing, and I think you’ll really enjoy your work. If you don’t then,” he shrugs casually, “no harm, no foul. Ok?”

That mollifies Ava slightly. “Oooook. But just to confirm - nothing illegal?”

“Nothing illegal.”

“Alright then.”

The car rolls to a stop at a red light, and JC looks over at her with a charming smile on his face. “So- “

Suddenly a sharp pain lances through Ava’s neck, and her world turns to black.

——

Headlights flash intermittently behind Beatrice as she sits in an armchair quietly, her mind strangely at peace now that the mission was almost complete. They were all crammed into a dingy motel room off the Autovia A-49, patiently waiting for their elusive charge to wake up, but spirits were high despite the tedium of waiting.

Beatrice may have gone a _little_ overboard with the stun rings.

More than once Beatrice catches herself stealing glances at Ava as she snores softly atop the polyester comforter, and each time she wishes she could slap herself. She hopes the others haven’t caught her staring, that they haven’t picked up on the nervous energy that seems to just radiate out of her whenever she so much as breathes in Ava’s general direction.

Something was _very_ wrong with her.

Her mind was muddled and unfocused, the complete opposite of what was needed in a situation such as this. And that strange feeling in her stomach was back…the _fluttering._ It was awful and horribly confusing.

Although…she _did_ eat that expired protein bar earlier. With her sensitive digestive system, perhaps this was simply her body telling her that next time she should be more responsible with what she puts in her mouth? Yes, that makes the most sense.

Regardless of whatever is going on with her insides, Beatrice resolves to be the consummate professional with anything pertaining to Ava Silva. Beatrice was one of the top agents at the OCS, and she will damn well act like it.

The distinct sound of cheap motel sheets rustling catches her attention, and she immediately glances towards the young woman who was now under their care. Her limbs are moving sluggishly, still clearly feeling the effects of the ring, and Beatrice feels just the tiniest bit bad about her part in Ava’s discomfort.

Mary nods to the team as she goes to take her place by the bed, wordlessly agreeing to take the lead in questioning their charge.

“Welcome back.”

Ava’s eyes flutter open, and she slowly moves her head back and forth as she tries to focus on her surroundings. She wets her lips as she attempts to sit up, and Beatrice notes with some annoyance that her hair is somehow still fashionably tousled despite her ordeal.

“Where am I?” Ava asks as she gingerly pushes herself up into a sitting position and glances around the room. Her eyes zero in on Mary who is hovering by her side and they narrow dangerously. “Who are you people? WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!”

“Your name is Ava isn’t it?” Mary asks, ignoring her questions altogether. “Ava Silva?”

“Yeah. And who the fuck are you?”

“Language,” Camila admonishes softly from her place at the desk.

In an instant Ava jumps up off the bed, shaking her head vehemently as she paces back and forth in clear agitation. “Nope. No no nooooo. I just escaped a bunch of psychotic nuns. I am not about to be kidnapped by some weirdos who won’t even let me swear WHILE I’M LITERALLY BEING KIDNAPPED!”

With a soft sigh Beatrice rises to her feet. “You’re not being kidnapped.”

“No?” Ava challenges as she whirls around to face her, dark eyes full of righteous indignation. “What would you call forcibly relocating someone?”

“You’re not being forcibly relocated,” Beatrice replies firmly, refusing to back down. “We just need you to come with us, and you don’t have the option of saying no.”

“You know what that sounds an awful lot like? FUCKING KIDNAPPING!”

Lilith groans. “Do we have a gag? We should gag her.”

Ava waggles her eyebrows. “Oooh. So I’ve been kidnapped by kinky nuns,” she goads them, sending a very pointed glance to the handcuffs that rest on the bedside table.

Mary rolls her eyes as she snatches the cuffs off the table and tosses them into an open duffel. “We ain’t nuns, and you’re not being kidnapped. We’re _helping_ you, you dumbass.”

“Well excuse me, but this doesn’t seem very helpful,” Ava replies sourly as she holds up her chafed wrists for emphasis.

“You know, I think I would have preferred her to be eight.”

Beatrice shakes her head wearily. “I don’t know if she would have been any better behaved at eight.”

“I’ll have you know that I was a goddamn delight,” Ava retorts, scowling at Beatrice.

“I find that very hard to believe.”

“Rude.”

Beatrice huffs in frustration, having had more than enough of this inane back and forth. “Listen- “

“No you listen! I- “

Camila rushes forward suddenly, thrusting an open Tupperware container right under Ava’s nose. “Here, why don’t you have a cookie?”

“I don’t want a damn co- wait actually, those smell really good.”

Within seconds Ava is grabbing the largest cookie she can find and shoving half of it in her mouth, moaning with delight as crumbs spill all over the ratty grey carpet. “Oh wow…wow wow wow. These are incredible!”

Camila smiles at her reaction, looking overly pleased with herself. “Thanks. I baked them myself.”

Ava’s eyes practically bug out of her head. “Get out! Really? These are homemade cookies?”

“Yes. I made them for you.”

“Hot damn!” Ava exclaims, grinning from ear to ear. “I’ve never had homemade cookies before. They’re amazing!”

Beatrice grits her teeth. They were just cookies. Anyone could make cookies, it wasn’t bloody rocket science.

“You know,” Ava continues, “maybe this whole being kidnapped thing isn’t so bad after all. I’m eatin’ gourmet over here,” she winks at Camila, shoving another cookie in her mouth for good measure.

“Thank you Ava,” Camila replies, blushing profusely. “I think the lavender really adds something, don’t you think?”

“Lavender in cookies? Hmm…never would have thought of it, but you’re totally right. These cookies are on another level.”

“We wouldn’t know,” Mary grumbles with a scowl on her face. “We weren’t allowed to taste any.”

“With your attitude, I should think not.”

“That’s what I said!” Camila exclaims, looking happy to be vindicated. Ava holds her hand up for a high five, and Camila slaps her palm giddily.

Beatrice makes note to give Camila a thorough talking to about propriety in the workplace. Honestly, what was wrong with these teammates of hers? They looked like a bunch of amateurs. No wonder Ava wasn’t taking this seriously.

“Can we _please_ get back on track?” Beatrice practically begs. “Ava, who were those people?”

Ava crunches away at another cookie, crumbs decorating her mouth and shirt. “Which people?” She mumbles around the masticated mess of blueberries and pastry in her mouth.

Beatrice silently counts to ten. “The ones you were with,” she replies in her most patient voice.

“Why?” Ava asks suspiciously.

“Because people are trying to harm you and- “

“You know, from where I’m standing the only people trying to harm me are the ones who _fucking kidnapped_ me,” Ava replies. With a smirk she leans into Beatrice’s space, pushing up on her tiptoes to bring them both eye level, her warm breath ghosting over Beatrice’s face. “That’s _you_ by the way,” she adds snidely.

Tension knots in Beatrice’s stomach at Ava’s sudden proximity, her heart thudding wildly in her chest. She bites the inside of her cheek in an effort to keep her composure, mentally berating herself for her weakness. What on _earth_ was wrong with her?

She was tired. That was the problem. That was why she wasn’t herself. She was tired and stressed, and this…this absolute _terror_ was not making her life any easier. The sooner they completed the mission the better.

Beatrice visibly grits her teeth as she takes a deep breath. “Ava, I am _trying_ to be patient but- “

Ava promptly tunes her out, turning to Lilith who was leaning against the door. “Hey, I don’t suppose you have any milk to go with these cookies?”

“Do I look like a dairy cow?”

“I mean, honestly you look kinda like Grumpy Cat. You know, the meme?”

Camila burst into a fit of giggles while Lilith turns an impressive shade of red and lunges for Ava. A loud yelp rings out through the room as Ava leaps out of the way but catches her foot on a nearby table leg and ends up sprawled on the dirty carpeted floor. Lilith advances on her again, and this time Ava vaults onto the bed, hoping to have the advantage of higher ground. Lilith attempts a running tackle at the younger girl, but Ava is surprisingly quick on her feet, and jumps off the mattress just in the nick of time, leaving the older woman face down in a pile of musty pillows.

“Damn, for a professional you suuuuckkkk!” Ava crows, bouncing on her feet as though she were about to enter a boxing ring.

Camila claps enthusiastically. “Well done Ava!”

Lilith snarls as she pulls herself up to her full height, ready to bring down the cocky brat in what is sure to be an unnecessarily violent altercation. Mary looks completely unbothered by the possibility that their charge could be seriously injured, instead choosing to watch on with barely concealed amusement as Ava continues to bounce around, preening for a fawning Camila. With a shake of her head, Beatrice decides she ought to step in. For the mission.

Lilith charges and Beatrice steps directly in front of Ava, deflecting the hit and instead landing a blow to the older woman’s midsection. Wheezing, Lilith doubles over and falls to the floor, glaring up at Beatrice with a look of betrayal.

“We have more important things to do,” Beatrice says firmly. “Let’s keep our focus. _All_ of us,” she adds with a pointed glance at Camila.

Which apparently goes right over her younger teammate’s head.

“I have some sweet nettle tea if you would like?” Camila kindly offers Ava. “It’s not milk, but it should still go with the cookies very nicely.”

Ava’s eyes light up at her words. “I’ve never had it, but it sounds dope.”

“It’s my mother’s recipe,” Camila explains as she pours the steaming tea into a styrofoam cup. “She said it cures all ails.”

“Money back guarantee?” Ava jokes as she takes a sip. “Woah! It’s delicious!”

“Thank you. My- “

“Are you both quite done? This isn’t a bloody picnic!” Lilith snaps as she hovers by the window, nursing what is left of her pride.

“Look lady, if I’m gonna be kidnapped I may as well try to enjoy it.”

Beatrice rubs her temples, attempting to ward off an impending migraine. “For the _last time,_ you are _not_ being kidnapped Ava.”

“So what? Is this some dating ritual I don’t know about? Oooohh is this a punk’d episode? Is Ashton Kutcher here?” Ava asks, looking around the room expectantly.

“Only celebrities get punked,” Mary replies dryly as she sips at her instant coffee.

“I could be a celebrity. You don’t know.”

Lilith exhales noisily, her nostrils flaring with barely concealed anger. “Let’s just make the exchange and get it over with. We have far more pressing missions that need our attention.”

And suddenly that idea - the purpose of their whole mission - is…unpalatable to Beatrice. It’s an uncomfortable feeling, which she doesn’t like but…she’s not ready for this whirlwind to end. Not yet.

Not because she wants to spend more time with Ava though. No, absolutely not. That would be like an elephant dart to the brain. It's just that...well there are just a lot of questions that need answering before they give up their one piece of leverage. That’s all.

“No,” Beatrice replies firmly. “She stays with us until we know what’s going on.”

Lilith looks at her as if she’s grown two heads. “You really want to spend more time with _that?”_ She asks incredulously, tilting her head towards Ava who currently looked like a chipmunk with the amount of cookie she had shoved into her mouth.

“Hey!” Ava exclaims, looking positively affronted by Lilith’s tone. “You guys kidnapped me! I was doing just fine, minding my own business, until you jumped in and ruined my life.” Turning to Camila she gives her a sweet smile and places a hand on the younger squad member’s arm. “That’s not directed at you by the way. You seem lovely.”

Camila blushes profusely. “Thank you Ava,” she replies, smiling shyly.

Beatrice fought the urge to roll her eyes. The two of them fawning over each other was positively nauseating.

Lilith scowls at the pair, her feelings on the matter clearly echoing Beatrice’s. _“Anyway,_ as I was saying - we have other matters to attend to.”

It was true, they did but…there was something inside of Beatrice, that damn string tugging at her again, this time telling her to stay.

To stay with Ava.

Her gut had never been wrong, and there was clearly more to the Silva case than met the eye. She would be remiss in her duty as an elite OCS squad member if she didn’t complete this mission and protect their charge to her upmost capabilities - even if it meant going against direct orders.

“I’ll look after her.”

The words flew out of Beatrice’s mouth so quickly, she barely even realized she had spoken. Four heads spun in her direction, each with varying degrees of shock.

Ava, naturally, is the first to speak and doesn’t seem at all grateful to Beatrice for her help. “I’m not a dog,” she pouts, crossing her arms petulantly.

Actually, Ava kind of reminded Beatrice of a golden retriever now that she thought about it…but she supposes it’s not the time to mention it.

“I didn’t say you were.”

“And what are we supposed to tell Superion?” Lilith demands.

Mary frowns, setting aside her coffee as she rose to her feet. “Why are you so eager to hand Ava off?”

Blinking owlishly, Lilith seems confused by the question. “Because it’s our mission?”

That wasn’t good enough for Beatrice. “Even after everything we’ve been through? The mission has been flawed from the beginning. Everything we were led to believe was wrong. It stands to reason that we could very well be walking Ava into a trap,” she insists, her eyes fiery and determined.

“I don’t think it’s a trap,” Lilith dismisses her, waving off her concerns airily. “I think that in a very embarrassing moment for everyone involved, we got our wires crossed.”

Mary scoffs derisively. “Know what I think? I think you’re full of shit Lilith."

"Excuse me?"

"You caused most of this mess. After all, it was _you_ who changed the pickup date."

Suddenly Beatrice’s mind comes screeching to a halt. “Wait…what?”

Lilith crosses her arms, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. “And how exactly do you know that Mary?”

“I’m sorry, can we go back to-”

“Who are you working for Lilith?” Mary demands, pulling a shotgun on Lilith as her eyes glint dangerously in the lamplight. "Why did you wanna delay us? Who do you have waitin' for Ava?"

Lilith, to her credit, doesn’t even flinch. With lightning fast reflexes she reaches behind her back and pulls out her pistol, aiming it straight at Mary’s heart. “Who are _you_ working for Mary?” she sneers. “Only two people knew of the original date, one being me. How did _you_ come upon that highly classified information?”

Beatrice is still frantically trying to process everything that has happened in the past couple of minutes. They _had_ been betrayed by someone in the OCS as she had suspected…she just hadn’t thought that the betrayal would come from her _own_ squad. In the blink of an eye Beatrice has gone from trusting her team implicitly, to wondering which one of them was trying to stab a knife into her back.

Quickly, Beatrice assesses the current situation. Mary and Lilith are holding each other at gunpoint, and as she glances over at Camila, she notices the younger girl shifting nervously on her feet.

That was _not_ a good sign.

“I don’t know what’s happening, but this seems like the appropriate response,” Camila says as she pulls guns on both Mary and Lilith. “You both need to calm down.”

As Beatrice turns to check in on Ava, she is both relieved and unnerved to find the civilian looking completely nonplussed as she sits on the bed and sips her nettle tea. It’s as though she thinks they are in some sort of performing arts troupe and she is just an audience member witnessing their grand dramatic finale. She clearly has no idea the insane amount of danger she is in, and Beatrice doesn’t know if that works in her favour or not.

Deep down, Beatrice knows that there is only one course of action for her to take. Acting purely on instinct, she positions herself closer to Ava and casually reaches into the duffel that rests by their feet. Ava sets aside her tea and gives her a curious glance, tilting her head like a puppy. Subtly Beatrice shakes her head, hoping that against all odds, Ava will decide to trust her.

“Well Beatrice? Are you gonna pick a side or beg for peace?” Mary taunts, her eyes still trained on Lilith.

Beatrice ignores the jab and focuses on Ava, who she is surprised to find intently staring back at her. That string tugs again, and it’s all the assurance she needs to know that this is the right choice.

“In this life or the next,” Beatrice mutters, and with a flick of her wrist expertly launches a gas grenade into the middle of the room. It ping pongs along the carpet, landing perfectly between her teammates feet and releasing the lachrymator agent swirling into the air.

Grabbing Ava by the arm, Beatrice pulls her out into the hallway and slams the door behind them, the sound of her teammates coughing echoing in her ears. A mop rests against the wall opposite to where they stand, and Beatrice snatches it quickly, using it to wedge the door shut and seal her teammates in.

“Come on! It won’t hold them for long!” Beatrice yells at a dithering Ava, tugging the dazed woman down the corridor at a punishing pace. “RUN!”

——

Ava’s legs ached with a searing pain that she had never felt in her life. Her lungs burned as though they were on fire - perhaps because of the fucking _gas grenade_ that had been hurled her way - and all she wanted to do was just collapse in a nice cozy bed and wake up to find out it was all a dream.

Unfortunately, the uppity Jane Bond next to her had other plans.

“Can you move any faster?” the woman asks, her voice tinged with thinly veiled annoyance as she skillfully led them through the dark winding streets of Tomares.

“I could,” Ava shrugs as she deliberately slows her steps. “But as it turns out, getting kidnapped and gassed doesn’t do a whole lot for someone’s motivation.”

“Ava- “

“All of those things caused by _you_ by the way,” Ava adds, jabbing an accusing finger towards her companion with a scowl.

The woman sighs heavily, and Ava thinks she sees a hint of remorse in her dark eyes. But she wouldn’t bet on it. Psychopaths don’t tend to have feelings. Dr Phil said so.

“I admit we have gotten off to a rocky start,” the woman allows as she brings them both to a stop in a secluded alleyway. “Let me introduce myself. I’m Beatrice.”

The woman - no _Beatrice_ \- extends her hand formally, and Ava inspects it as though it’s another explosive device. After several long moments of deliberation, Ava tentatively accepts the handshake, feeling something very unwelcome fluttering in her chest at the touch.

God that gas must have been strong.

“So…are you alright? You know…after everything?” Beatrice asks softly, dipping her head to try catch Ava’s eyes.

What a stupid question. This woman - no, her _captor_ \- didn’t seem very bright. Seems like God didn’t give with two hands, because damn was this woman gorgeous. Being smart would have just been overkill.

_Wait, what the hell Silva? Stop checking out the woman who fucking kidnapped you!_

Ava huffs as she snatches her hand away. “You all need therapy, you know that?”

“I’ve often thought so myself. Some of us more than others.”

“Grumpy Cat for sure.”

Beatrice visibly bites back a smile. “That would be Lilith. Yes, she certainly requires some sort of intervention.”

Against her better judgement, Ava finds herself softening towards her…well whatever Beatrice was. Currently, she wasn’t actively trying to harm Ava, but she wasn’t exactly rushing to help her return to her friends either. It could be worse. She could be stuck with Grumpy Cat.

A car backfires nearby and Beatrice jumps in front of Ava, her body tensed and on high alert. “We aren’t safe here,” she murmurs as she glances up at the street cameras. “We need to find shelter and make a new plan.”

And that does it for Ava.

“I don’t even know what the old plan was!” Ava fires back, all of her frustration finally bubbling over. “I have no clue what’s going on because you’ve told me jack shit!”

“Honestly Ava, I’m not entirely sure what’s going on myself,” Beatrice replies tiredly, her eyes fixed straight ahead as she scans the horizon.

_Was super hot Jane Bond being serious right now?!_

Ava shakes her head at the thought that she has literally been kidnapped for no discernible reason. The incompetence was _staggering._

“That’s super comforting,” Ava replies sarcastically. “You stole me away from my friends and you don’t even know why.”

“We had orders.”

“From who?” Ava demands, refusing to back down. “You don’t even know do you? You just stole a civilian off the street, no questions asked.”

Ava can tell she’s hit a sore point because Beatrice tenses immediately, the tips of her ears burning red as her eyes flick down to the ground in clear embarrassment. Ava almost feels bad, but then she remembers that this woman _fucking kidnapped her._

“I don’t want to discuss this right now,” Beatrice replies stiffly.

“I also had other plans for today, and yet here we are.”

“Ava- “

“I’m just curious,” Ava starts, unsure why she is _so_ intent on riling Beatrice up, “do you always just blindly follow what people tell you to do?”

“Clearly not, otherwise you would still be in that motel room,” Beatrice snaps, annoyance written plainly on her face.

Well, she had her there. Ava sullenly accepts her words as the two start walking again, neither feeling the urge to fill the silence while emotions are still running high. Besides, Ava needs time to think her way out of this predicament, and she can’t do that when she is busy running her mouth.

Although…did she have to come up with a plan right now? Ava is exhausted and, as far as she can tell, Beatrice isn’t trying to kill her...well not currently at least. So maybe she could just take a moment and breathe. Everything was kinda overwhelming. Plus-

“Shit!”

Alarmed, Beatrice spins them around and scans their surroundings, her hand immediately flying to her gun. “What? What is it?”

“We forgot to bring the cookies!”

——

JC hesitates at the door, taking the time to wipe his sweaty palms on his jeans before entering the room with his head bowed low.

His dinner companion doesn’t even look up from her styrofoam plate as he enters, pushing her takeout around with obvious distaste. “Where have you been? Dinner is already cold. Not that it was great hot anyway.”

“I know. I’m sorry. But I had an unexpected delay.”

“Wait…where the fuck is Ava?”

JC gulps, knowing that he was about to send years of careful planning up in flames. “I don’t know. She was taken by…well, I don’t know who.”

“Are you kidding me right now? You had one job! One fucking job!”

“I’m a hacker, not a bodyguard! And whoever took her were clearly professionals.”

“Unbelievable,” she mutters, storming away from the table and retrieving the cell phone that lay charging by the window.

“Now what do we do?”

Chanel turns around. “Now we call my uncle.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> If you have questions/requests/wanna say hi you can find me on Tumblr @ memento-vivere-20


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this chapter is a lot later than usual and I'm sorry! I finally moved and it was way more difficult than I anticipated (aka I'm a weakling who can't lift her own boxes). Buuuut here it is, and I hope it's worth the wait :)
> 
> Also, I just created a twitter, so if anyone has any questions (or feels like yelling at me after this chapter) come say hi at @MementoVivere22
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!

“Soooo,” Ava starts conversationally as she kicks at a stray rock, “what’s the plan exactly?”

They had been walking around the Tomares neighbourhood for over an hour, and Ava was exhausted. She wasn’t one for physical exertion…well, the boring kind anyway. The fun kind? Well, that she would happily participate in with no complaints.

Not with Beatrice though. Hell no.

When no reply was forthcoming from the woman in question, Ava glances over at her suspiciously. “You do have one, don’t you?”

“Of course I have one,” Beatrice snaps, her eyes laser focused on the road ahead.

Ava purses her lips, not at all impressed with that answer and even less than impressed with Beatrice’s tone.

_Is she seriously getting mad at me? I’m the victim here!_

“Well are you gonna let me in on it?” Ava replies snarkily. “Because I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there are two of us involved in...well, whatever situation we got goin’ on here.”

Beatrice chews her lip as she looks over at Ava, seeming somewhat contrite. “The ‘situation’ is that you and I are going into hiding,” she explains in a soft tone.

_Hmm…so she does have some semblance of a conscience. Good to know._

“We are?”

“Yes,” Beatrice nods. “For now at least.”

“Why?”

“Because-“

A thought hit Ava and she stops dead in her tracks, her eyes as wide as saucers. “Shit, are you one of the bad people trying to kill me?”

Beatrice turns around, her face a picture of absolute bewilderment. “If I were trying to kill you, then why are you still alive?”

“I dunno,” she shrugs, “maybe you wanna make it dramatic. Or you need to take me somewhere special to do it.”

Beatrice rolls her eyes. “This isn’t an episode of the Sopranos.”

“You’ve watched the Sopranos?” Ava asks, not even bothering to hide her surprise. “Wait…why are you watching mob shows? Is it because you identify with them? _Are you the mob?!”_

Beatrice blinks rapidly, seemingly trying to process the entirety of Ava’s word vomit. “You think I’m a bad guy? That I’m in the mob?”

“Well, I don’t see you denying it, so yeah. Dressed all in black, throwing grenades around. It checks out.”

“Grenades aren’t usually the mob’s weapon of choice,” Beatrice informs her matter-of-factly.

“Oh really?” Ava challenges, her voice rising as she feels a surge of adrenaline pumping through her veins. “You know who would know that? A fucking mobster!”

A smirk plays around Beatrice’s mouth as she watches Ava, seemingly amused by her deductions. It irks Ava to no end, and she is filled with a sudden urge to throw Beatrice against the nearest wall and…well, she’s not sure what. But Jane Bond needed to know that Ava was _not_ be messed with.

With a sigh, Beatrice ducks her head and stares purposefully into Ava’s eyes. “I’m not in the mob,” she assures her sincerely.

And god dammit, Ava believes her. Why she trusts a woman she just met is beyond her, but she does. It’s fucking annoying.

“Fine,” she replies sullenly. “But just know I’m keeping an eye on you.”

“Understood,” Beatrice says as she visibly bites back a smile. “I must say, you have an incredibly overactive imagination,” she adds offhandedly as she starts to walk once more.

Ava’s mobster anxiety is immediately forgotten as she bounds up alongside Beatrice and looks over at her with a beaming smile. “Thank you!”

“It was an observation, not a compliment.”

Ava shrugs, completely unperturbed. “I’m going to take it as a compliment anyway.”

“Of course you are.”

Ava’s eyebrow ticks up at Beatrice’s tone. The woman almost seems…fond of Ava.

_Huh._

“Sooo…anything else you think I’m good at?” Ava asks cheekily. She’s unsure why she’s fishing for compliments, or why she even cares what Beatrice thinks of her but…well, she supposes it’s always nice to be flattered.

“Not that I can tell,” Beatrice replies drolly but there’s no real bite to her tone.

_I think I’m growing on her. I’m TOTALLY growing on her!_

_Wait…why do I care?_

“Guess you should work on your observation skills then,” Ava sasses back, the slightest pout forming on her lips. “I think if you did, you’d find me irresistible.”

Beatrice glances over at her with amusement but doesn’t even bother to reply, her legs only seeming to pick up the pace. Ava swears they are practically running at this point, and she has the distinct impression that maybe Jane Bond doesn’t want to talk anymore.

Well fine by her. Beatrice is boring to talk to anyway.

It’s another ten minutes or so before they come to a stop in a darkened alleyway, the smell of rotting trash hanging in the air. Ava scrunches up her nose and pulls her leather jacket over half of her face in an attempt to try block some of the putrid air.

“Well, here we are,” Beatrice announces, seemingly unfazed by the stench that surrounds them.

“And where is ‘here’ exactly?”

Beatrice points to a shoddy looking building across the street. A neon light flickers above it, the letters MOTEL lighting up the night. “We need to stop, rest and regroup. It’s just temporary.”

“Can’t we regroup in like, McDonalds or something?” Ava asks hopefully, her stomach growling in agreement.

Beatrice ignores her, instead scanning the parking lot intently. “I’m going to take a lap. I need to survey the area and make sure we are secure,” she says, her eyes still keenly taking in every small detail on display. “Wait here.”

“Yes ma’am,” she replies with a mock salute.

As Beatrice slinks off into the darkness, Ava stares up at the rundown building across the street. The walls are crumbling at the foundation, and the metal bars on the windows look dangerously rusted. A woman shouts obscenities in the background, and glass shatters shortly after. A siren wails into the night, and Ava closes her eyes, letting the chaos wash over her like waves on the shore.

_So this is how I die._

She supposes there are worse ways to go. Honestly, she always figured Francis would do her in before she even aged out of St Michael’s, so maybe she should just take the win. Ava may be sort-of kidnapped and in hiding, but she was still currently alive.

_It’s the little victories._

“Ok, I’ve canvassed the area,” Beatrice announces a few minutes later as she jogs back to Ava. “This motel is perfect. Not a camera in sight.”

“Damn. That’s gonna make it real hard for us to make that sex tape.”

A strange spluttering sound catches Ava’s attention, and she watches in fascination as Beatrice seems to choke on air, her face reddening impressively. Her eyes are suddenly interested in everything _but_ Ava, and if Ava didn’t know better, she would think she had flustered the woman.

_Interesting._

“I b-beg your pardon?” Beatrice asks, her voice strained and cheeks adorably pink.

Ava rocks back on her feet, a smug smile slowly creeping across her face. “Personally, I think it would be a real chart-topper. We could make some serious cash, and I don’t know about you, but I’m kinda…” she trails off for dramatic effect and waggles her eyebrows suggestively, _“strapped_ these days.”

Satisfaction unfurls in Ava’s chest as she watches Beatrice’s eyes widen at her words, her mouth dropping open as if positively scandalized by the notion. It takes all of Ava’s willpower not to burst into hysterics at the sight.

“Lilith was right,” Beatrice huffs after several moments of stunned silence, “we should have gagged you.”

A tantalizing image involving the woman in front of her dances across Ava’s mind but she bats it away instantly.

_Not the time Silva._

“So we’re going with a 50 shades theme? Ok, I can get down with that,” Ava nods thoughtfully as she runs a hand through her hair. “But you really should buy a girl dinner first. Or at least a drink.”

Beatrice squeezes her eyes shut, sighing deeply and Ava bites back a smile at the sight. Zori always said that she could annoy even Saint Monica herself, and if Ava could annoy the patron saint of patience well…perhaps she might just annoy Jane Bond enough to let her go. It was worth a shot. And if it didn’t work…well, at least it would make being on the run a little more fun.

Eyes wandering slightly, Ava took in Beatrice’s general appearance once more. She just looks _so_ good in her all-black everything. Like a real pro…whatever she was. Flirting shamelessly with someone as hot as Beatrice really didn’t come with any downsides. In fact-

_Jesus Silva, keep it in your pants! Focus!_

“Listen,” Beatrice starts, having found her voice again, “I’m going to go get us a room. Stay here. And please try not to cause any trouble while I’m gone, ok?”

Ava flashes Beatrice her most charming smile. “Sure thing baby.”

_“Don’t_ call me baby,” Beatrice snaps in irritation, though her ears suspiciously tint an adorable red shade again.

_Oh I’m going to have soooo much fun with this._

Ava smirks. “Ok…babe.”

——

Mary can barely hold back the scowl on her face as she stomps across the road to a deserted park, her two other teammates hot on her heels. She can hear the motel staff fussing loudly behind them, clearly having discovered the carnage in their room but she couldn’t care less.

Right now she has bigger problems to deal with.

“I can’t believe she gassed us!” Lilith exclaims as she flops down on the park bench, her hair a tangled mess. She glares at the motel across the street as though she could incinerate it with her eyes alone. “I don’t know what was in her special little grenade, but I feel like I’ve been to bloody hell and back.”

Mary grunts in agreement as she drops down beside her. “I’m gonna kill her. Then once I’m done, I’m gonna bring her back from the dead, and I’m gonna kill her _again.”_

“Do you think maybe she did it by accident?” Camila asks hopefully as she attempts to wipe the grime from her face. The looks she receives in return is enough to have her shrinking down onto the bench, her mouth zipped tight.

The three sit in stunned silence as the minutes tick by, all seemingly unable to comprehend that their teammate - their _friend -_ just threw a _fucking grenade_ at them.

_That bitch._

With a heavy sigh Mary claps her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Alright, listen up. We still have a mission to do. First things first - we get Ava back.”

“Then what?”

“Then we decide what to do with her. _Without_ launching grenades or shooting each other,” she says, looking pointedly at Lilith. “Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Camila and Lilith reply in unison.

Mary wasn’t a fool. She knew this little pact between her and Lilith was tenuous at best. The minute Lilith had what she wanted - which in this case seemed to be Ava - she would be sharpening her claws and stabbing them right into Mary’s back.

The woman was a fucking demon, but unfortunately, a damn good agent. She would find Ava with or without Mary, so Mary figured at least this way she could keep tabs on the devil incarnate. She knew that if she let Lilith get to Ava first, then she really would be up shit creek without a paddle.

Feeling a pebble hit her shin, Mary glances over at the youngest member of their squad, seeing the rookie sullenly kicking at the gravel. Thank god for Camila. She was sure that was why Lilith was even bothering to stick around. The kid was incredibly useful and frankly, the best hope either of them had for finding Beatrice any time soon.

“I just wanna be clear though - I don’t trust you,” Mary says, jabbing an accusing finger at Lilith.

Reclining regally on the bench, Lilith simply crosses her arms and arches her eyebrow. “I don’t trust you.”

“And I don’t trust _either_ of you,” Camila interjects with an unusually hard look on her face.

“Well at least everyone is being honest.”

“Everyone but Beatrice,” Lilith points out. “She gassed her own team and took off with the package. Notice that _Beatrice_ is the one who now has Ava, and we have no idea where they are? What if _she_ was the mole, and she set this whole thing up?”

Scoffing loudly, Camila shakes her head. _“You_ were the one that changed the date. We wouldn’t be in this situation if we had picked Ava up at the orphanage at the right time.”

Mary raises her eyes as Camila shoots Lilith down in devastating fashion. The youngest member of the squad was known to keep out of disagreements, to rise above the fray…but clearly she wasn’t going to take any of Lilith’s shit either.

_Good for her._

“There wasn’t a nefarious reason behind the date change. I had no idea this would happen, or that Ava wouldn’t be there,” Lilith defends herself. “It was just as much of a surprise to me as it was to all of you.”

“So why change the date?”

“I…I can’t answer that. You’ll just have to trust me.”

“That’s the problem Lilith - we don’t,” Mary sneers, her nostrils flaring angrily.

This was typical Lilith. Get caught in a lie, then pretend that she lied for the greater good. And she wonders why they could never work.

As if sensing the situation was getting away from her, Lilith quickly switches tactics. “Someone changed the age on the file,” she reminds them. “You can’t deny that also changed the trajectory of this whole mission. The pickup date wouldn’t have mattered if the girl had in fact been eight. Ava being an adult and able to leave the orphanage was where we ran into problems.”

“Oh…that’s true,” Camila nods. “She does have a point there.”

_God dammit. She did._

“Was it you Mary?” Lilith asks. “No bullshit.”

“What? No!” Mary exclaims. “Trust me, the last thing I would have wanted was to pick up a mouthy little shit like _that._ I woulda turned down this assignment so fast if I knew what we were gonna have to deal with.”

Lilith leans forward to face the youngest member of the squad, a hard look in her eye. “Camila?”

Camila furrows her brows, seemingly unsure what she is being asked. After a few moments, the implication sets in, and her eyes widen in outrage. “What? How did I get dragged into this?!”

_That wasn’t a denial._

“Answer the question!” Lilith demands, her eyes searching Camila’s for any sign of deception.

“I didn’t do anything!” Camila cries. “I just shared my cookies with her!”

“Then it must be Beatrice. Why else would she run with Ava?”

“It adds up,” Mary shakes her head ruefully. “Fuck, how could we be so blind? She was adamant that she went into the orphanage alone. And she was so sure that we were chasing the right Ava Silva.”

“She was the first to recognize her,” Camila adds reluctantly.

Mary can tell how much it pains the younger girl to admit that out loud. It’s clear that Camila _really_ doesn’t want to throw Beatrice under the bus but…sometimes you gotta call a spade a spade.

“She’s taken the lead on this from the start,” Lilith adds. “In hindsight it seems so obvious.”

“Shit,” Mary sighs, “one of the most highly skilled agents in the OCS with top level clearances is a fucking traitor.”

“We don’t kn-“

_“And_ she’s run off with someone so important that the Americans were willing to do anything to secure her safety and return.”

“So who is Beatrice working for?” Lilith asks pensively, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “And why?”

“Canadians?” Camila supplies, garnering bewildered looks. “What? I don’t know much about American politics,” she shrugs.

“Ok, so we got Americans, maybe Canadians, bad people, and we don’t know where Beatrice lands. I have an idea,” Mary posits, only half joking. “Let’s ask Lilith! Which team are you batting for?”

“Fuck off.”

Camila looks between the two women, clearly confused. “Wait, what’s going on?”

_The hell if she knows._

Mary glances down at her watch, noting that Beatrice has probably gotten a forty minute head start on them at least. It’s significant, given how talented the agent is, but Mary has Lilith and Camila on her side. They can definitely track them down.

“Look, let’s just concentrate on finding them. Then we’ll figure out what to do about Beatrice and Lilith.”

Lilith pitches forward, inexplicably outraged by her words. “Hey!”

Mary ignores her as she rises from the bench gingerly. “Don’t think this thing with you is done,” she warns Lilith before stepping away to make a call.

Lilith huffs as she stands and puts more distance between them, tapping away on her own phone. “I haven’t even _started_ with you,” she calls after her.

Camila sinks lower into the bench, arms folded sullenly. “When we get back to the office you _both_ have a lot of explaining to do.”

——

The young boy at the front desk took far too long checking her in for Beatrice’s liking, but at least he was uninterested enough to ask any questions. There were terrible sightlines from the desk to the alley way where she had left Ava, and she just hopes that the impulsive woman has enough sense to stay put.

She highly doubted it.

The pimply faced teen hands her a set of keys, boredom written all over his face. “Room 108. Cash or credit?”

“Cash,” she replies, throwing a wad of bills at him. “And see to it that we are not disturbed.”

“Discretion is our specialty ma’am,” he smiles and sends her a sleazy wink.

It makes Beatrice want to punch him in the face.

“That is much appreciated,” she says instead. With a curt nod she quickly trots out the door and practically sprints across the road to the alleyway, hoping against hope that Ava will still be there.

To Beatrice’s surprise…she was.

_Huh._

“You’re here,” Beatrice says dumbly, her eyes still not believing the sight in front of her.

Ava stares back at her, her face a mix of polite confusion. “Was I not supposed to be?”

“No you were, I just…didn’t think you would listen.”

“I thought about doing a runner,” Ava confesses with a light shrug, “but I figured you would find me pretty quick. Didn’t see the point. Plus I’m kinda tired. Need some energy if I’m gonna make a break for it y’know?”

_Well, at least she’s honest._

“I see your point.”

Ava rocks back and forth on her heels expectantly. “Sooooo…did you get a room?”

Beatrice blinks, attempting to dispel the fog of absolute confusion that Ava’s presence had caused. “Yes. Sorry, it took longer than expected. The boy helping me was rather slow.”

“What, were you expecting five star service in a dump like this?”

“I just expected some semblance of competence.”

Ava laughs softly. “C’mon princess, show me the honeymoon suite,” she winks.

Beatrice valiantly tries to control the blush that creeps up her neck as the two walk towards the motel. “We are _not_ on a honeymoon.”

“Trust me, if you brought me to a place like this for our honeymoon, I’d be serving you with divorce papers like that!” Ava jokes as she snaps her fingers right in Beatrice’s face.

“That would be incredibly difficult, as I certainly wouldn’t have married you in the first place,” Beatrice teases her back much to Ava’s delight.

_Oh god, what was she doing? Get a hold of yourself Beatrice! Act like a bloody professional!_

Clearing her throat, Beatrice brings them to a stop outside a faded wooden door, the numbers rusted and askew. The smell of stale cigarette smoke permeated the air, and next door a woman could be heard moaning loudly.

_Lovely._

“Here we are,” she announces as she ushers Ava into the shabby room. “Don’t get too comfortable. It’s just somewhere to rest for a few hours while I find us a way out of the city.”

Ava turns to face her, an eyebrow raised in question. “Only one bed?”

Beatrice’s eyes widen, and they travel past Ava to land on the very large bed in question that took up almost the entire room.

_Fuck._

“It was all they had,” Beatrice replies defensively, though she feels that telltale blush starting to flare across her cheeks again.

“Suuure,” Ava drawls as she saunters further into the room. She turns around to face Beatrice, a flirtatious glint in her eye as her lips pull up into a lazy smirk. “You know, this is a very common trope. You and me? We’re gonna end up together.”

Beatrice scoffs even as her heart thuds loudly in her ears. “You’re insane.”

“I’ve seen the movies; I’ve read the books…you and me babe. It’s inevitable,” Ava insists, her voice low and suggestive as she sank down on the bed with a coquettish smile.

Warmth floods Beatrice’s body as the mood in the room suddenly shifts, a thick heavy tension settling over them that sucks the air straight out of her lungs. Ava pats the space beside her, inviting Beatrice onto the bed and it’s just too much.

Beatrice needs to get out of this room and away from Ava’s very obvious advances. _Now._

“I have to go,” she gestures vaguely towards the door, “out there. To check things.”

Ava tilts her head curiously. “What things?”

“Just…things.”

“Well, would you like some help?” Ava offers, looking somewhat amused.

Beatrice’s eyes narrow as she takes in Ava’s general countenance. The woman seemed…smug. But worse than that, she looked like someone who was playing a game, and was content in the knowledge that she was playing it well.

That she was playing _Beatrice_ well.

_That brat! She knows exactly what she’s doing._

Well it wouldn’t work. Beatrice is a professional, and she’s onto her. No amount of flirting is going to make her shirk her duties. Not that Ava’s pathetic attempts at flirting are working anyway.

Not at all.

“No thank you,” Beatrice replies curtly. “Just stay here. I won’t be long.”

“Whatever you say,” Ava pauses for a long moment, holding her gaze purposefully, “ _babe.”_

Beatrice squeezes her eyes shut, calling on every shred of her training not to absolutely throttle Ava Silva. She provokes Beatrice on a level that not even her parents had been able to achieve, and she wonders if perhaps that is a special skill itself.

A disturbance out in the hallway breaks Beatrice from her murderous thoughts, and she inches towards the window to get a better look. Hand resting on her pistol, she almost jumps out of her skin when she feels a presence sidle up beside her.

“What’s going on?” Ava asks, leaning over her to get a better look.

Rolling her eyes, Beatrice pushes her away. “Stay back!” she whispers harshly. “You’re in hiding remember?”

“I thought _we_ were in hiding?”

_“We_ are, but I’m better at hiding than you.”

“I’ll have you know that I was the hide and seek champion three years in a row at St Michael’s,” Ava proudly boasts, again inching closer to Beatrice.

“And I’ll have you know that I was top of my class in SERE,” Beatrice retorts, shoving Ava back again.

She knew it was poor form to brag, but Ava Silva just had a way of making Beatrice toss all of her carefully constructed principles out the nearest window. It was maddening.

“In what?” Ava asks, furrowing her brows in confusion.

“Survival, Evasion, Resistance and Escape,” Beatrice explains distractedly, keeping her eyes peeled on the hallway.

Ava scoffs loudly. “You needed a class to teach you how to survive? Not filling me with a whole lot of confidence here Bea.”

Did she…did she really just call her _Bea?_ The absolute audacity of this woman! No one calls her Bea, not even her mother. She was this close, _this close,_ to tossing Ava Silva out of the bloody window.

Narrowing her eyes, Beatrice throws Ava a dirty look. “I got us out of the motel didn’t I? I got us out of a bad situation while you just sat there drinking tea.”

“Sure,” Ava replies easily. “But that motel had _two_ beds. This one only has one. Oh wait!” she slaps her forehead as though having an epiphany. “I see what you did there! You sly fox,” she teases with a shit eating grin.

“Oh for god’s sake,” Beatrice grits her teeth. Choosing to rise above Ava’s obvious baiting, she takes a deep breath and refocuses on her task, peering out the window for a few moments more. “Alright. It was just a few drunk men. We’re safe.”

“‘Drunk men’ and ‘safe’ aren’t usually words that go together when you’re a woman but ok,” Ava remarks sardonically as she sends Beatrice a thumbs up, apparently now bored with the situation.

Seconds later Ava starts loudly clamouring around the room, mumbling to herself as she seems in search for something. Beatrice observes her warily, not at all trusting that this woman won’t try to burn the whole bloody place down. The mumbling grows louder, and Beatrice really doesn’t want to know but…

“What on earth ar-“

“Aha!” Ava exclaims, waving a sticky remote in her hand. “Hope we get cable.”

_Of course._

“I highly doubt it,” she replies dryly.

“That’s what Francis said at St Michael’s. But you know what? Never missed an episode of Atomic Betty. Got to watch it from start to finish,” she boasts proudly. “Where’s there’s an Ava, there’s cable.”

Beatrice smiles faintly, vaguely remembering the show from her childhood. “Good for you.”

Something nags at Beatrice as she absently watches Ava sprawl across the bed, a faint whisper of something forgotten. She tries to grasp at it, knowing that with her OCS teammates on her trail she can’t afford any missteps. But she’s so very tired. And sore. And grimy in a way that makes her feel like she’s been riding the tube for twenty-four hours straight.

The thought of a nice, steaming hot shower is intoxicating and she wishes she could trust the minx that was currently starfishing on the cheap polyester comforter. She just needed ten minutes…ten minutes of hot water and pure solitude to gather her thoughts and firm up a bulletproof plan.

A boisterous laugh filters through the air, and Beatrice tilts her head in thoughtful contemplation as Ava cackles at the screen in front of her…perhaps she could get away with it. Ava did seem suitably distracted at the moment.

“Ava,” Beatrice starts, “can I trust you not to do anything stupid while I shower?”

Ava waves her off, completely engrossed in the telenovela on the screen. “Yeah yeah, whatever. Go get clean. You kinda smell.”

“I do not!”

“Then why do you wanna shower so bad?”

“Hygiene,” she replies wryly. “Perhaps you’ve heard of it?”

Something dangerous glints in Ava’s eyes and Beatrice just _knows_ the game is on again.

Snapping her fingers, Ava shimmies off the bed and saunters over to Beatrice with a sly smile on her face. "You know, you’re right Beatrice. I should probably have a shower too. What say we jump in there together?”

“I beg your pardon?”

The very idea sends a strange heat coursing through Beatrice’s veins, though she tries desperately to hide it. Not well, if Ava’s knowing look is anything to go by.

“It’s better for the environment,” Ava informs her, the corner of her mouth lifting up in a smirk. “Think of the whales.”

Beatrice blinks. “The whales?”

“Or the bees. I dunno,” Ava shrugs half-heartedly, “whatever part of nature that floats your boat.”

Ava’s eyes are glittering with the kind of mischievous intent that Beatrice knows means trouble. She has to cut this nonsense off at the pass.

“We are not showering together,” she says firmly.

“Why not?”

“Because!”

“Ooooh,” Ava taunts, her face full of impish delight, “I bet you were at the top of your class for debate too.”

Beatrice bristles at the insinuation that she is less than capable in _anything_ she tries her hand at. “I’ll have you know th-“

“Unless,” Ava interjects smoothly, a thoughtful look on her face, “have you never seen another woman naked before?”

Beatrice felt her cheeks warming for what felt like the thousandth time that day. “That is none of your business,” she replies primly.

“Oh wow,” Ava rocks back on her heels, a beaming grin on her face. “So I’m gonna be your first?”

Beatrice doesn’t have regrets. She doesn’t see the point really…every decision she has made has shaped her into the person she is today. And she likes that person. However…she _really_ should have left Ava in that motel. Why she felt the need to protect such an audacious hellion was beyond her.

But she couldn’t let Ava see that she was getting to her. She couldn’t let Ava think she was winning whatever game she was attempting to play. Beatrice never lost, and she certainly wasn’t about to start now.

“Let me be very clear Miss Silva,” Beatrice says, her voice as hard as steel. This,” she gestures between the two of them, “isn’t happening. _Ever.”_

“But we’re sharing a bed,” Ava replies, her brows furrowed in faux confusion. “In the mov-“

“This is _not_ a movie, and we are _not_ going to fall in love.”

Ava’s eyes light up in amusement, a smug smile plastered on her lips. “Who said anything about love?”

Beatrice opens her mouth, but promptly snaps it shut. No way was she walking into that trap. She had already said too much and embarrassed herself more today than she had ever thought possible. It was best if she sidestepped Ava’s question entirely.

“I’m a professional,” Beatrice says instead, the words automatic and ingrained. “As such, we do not shower with-

“People you kidnap?”

“Ava,” she grits out. “You have _not_ been kidnapped.”

“Haven’t I though?” Ava muses, her voice ticking up in question. She taps her chin thoughtfully. “Because this feels a little _Taken_ to me, know what I’m sayin?”

Beatrice is not even going to dignify that utter tripe with a response. Huffing loudly she storms into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her for good measure.

“Cool, I was done talking too!” Ava calls from the other side of the door.

With a heavy sigh, Beatrice slides her eyes shut and braces herself against the vanity.

_What the bloody hell has she done?!_

——

Camila isn’t an idiot. She knows everyone assumes she is naïve, and she supposes her youth and general aura supports the presumption. But she likes to think she is a little more savvy than she lets on. She has to be in this world.

“How much longer?”

Camila shifts in the backseat. “Ten, fifteen minutes maybe?”

Lilith groans but doesn’t press for further details as she slumps in the front seat, Mary impatiently tapping the wheel next to her.

The truth was that she had located Beatrice and Ava over half an hour ago. Beatrice had been smart; she had ducked away from the cameras at the first opportunity, likely knowing that was the first place her teammate (former teammate?) would look. But, there were only so many places they could be within the blacked out region of Andalusia. And unfortunately for Beatrice, Camila had received the exact same SERE training. In fact, she had received it from Beatrice herself.

In this business, knowledge was power. Beatrice had passed along enough of her knowledge that it would now backfire spectacularly. Camila was determined not to make the same mistake. She _would_ share her information…but when the time was right. She refused to become a pawn in whatever game her OCS sisters were playing, and she absolutely would not let poor Ava become a victim of their schemes either.

So instead, Camila sat and tapped uselessly on her tablet, trying to beat her previous high score in Candy Crush, while surreptitiously listening in as the two older members of the squad quietly bickered in the front seat. She currently didn’t trust either of the women as far as she could throw them, but she desperately wants to reach Ava. While Camila knows Ava’s location, going up against one of the most deadly agents of the OCS in order to retrieve her would be…challenging.

She would need the two women in the front seat for that. Beatrice is smart, she’s wily, and she thinks on her feet. When backed into a corner, she always has plans, and backup plans for those plans, and backup plans for her backup plans. And her recent actions have clearly shown that she won’t be willing to give Ava up so easily. There would be blood spilled…and Camila was determined that it wouldn’t be hers. Or Ava’s.

Camila just hoped that Ava would be open to her advances when the time came. Who knew what sort of things Beatrice had been filling her head with, or if they had bonded during the short time they have spent alone together. And Camila doesn’t have the help of her cookies this time around to help gain Ava’s trust either. She just has to hope that the time spent in the motel - before everything went bellyside up - was enough for Ava to believe in her.

It had to be.

Lilith takes a deep breath before turning around again. “Camila, I don’t mean to push-“

“Then don’t,” Mary snaps. “She’s the best at what she does. She’ll find them when she finds them. She’s doin’ her job; you just focus on yours.”

Camila smiles her thanks as she opens up her secure portal, tapping a message into her chat window.

It was almost time.

——

Ava waits until she hears the water running before rolling off the bed in a rather graceless fashion. She had been struck by inspiration the moment she walked into this deathtrap of a room. All she needed was a few minutes to execute her perfect escape.

She just _knew_ she could annoy Beatrice enough to leave her alone.

A little voice inside of her whispers that maybe she should pump the brakes on this brilliant plan…think it through a little more. It wasn’t that she was _enjoying_ being kidnapped - like, who would enjoy spending time with a super-hot secret spy or whatever Beatrice was - but…maybe she should let this whole thing play out a little more.

For all of Beatrice’s faults - namely, being a _fucking kidnapper -_ Ava has found her to be surprisingly kind when she wants to be. She actually cared whether Ava was ok after the grenade incident, and she did slow their pace when Ava was lagging behind, even before Ava had voiced any complaint. Sure Beatrice got snappy sometimes, but Ava tended to have that effect on people.

Wait a second…no, she was _not_ falling for this. Obviously Beatrice was just lulling her into a false sense of security, making her feel safe and cared for. She needed to remember that she _was_ safe with her friends and was about to start living her best life _before_ Beatrice came along and _fucking kidnapped her!_

But…ever since Ava had first laid eyes on Beatrice, it felt as though an invisible string had been tugging on her, tethering her to the woman. It was the reason she had trusted Beatrice when everything went to shit in that first motel room, and the reason Ava had followed her all the way to the new motel.

And right now, in this moment, that same string was tugging at Ava insistently, it’s message loud and clear: stay here.

Stay with Beatrice.

Ava clenches her jaw. No, no way. She had only _just_ gotten her freedom before it was snatched away. She was _not_ going to waste another chance by tethering herself to some uppity know-it-all who had no regard for someone’s free will. Sure, Beatrice _maybe_ saved Ava’s life (still up for debate) but who’s to say that she wasn’t the one who put Ava in danger in the first place?

Ava wanted to live. She deserved to after her shitty childhood. And she owes nothing to some hoity-toity stranger who just burst into her life for no fucking reason and turned it all upside down in the matter of a day.

Her stomach and all it’s funny, fluttery feelings can shove it.

Decision made, Ava quickly shuffles over to the corded phone that rests on the bedside and yanks it to her ear, pointedly ignoring the way her heart is practically screaming in her ears that she is making a _very_ big mistake.

There was a dial tone at least. Thank god it actually worked. As fast as she could manage, she dialed Chanel’s number, hopping on her feet as she waited for her friend to answer. She knew it was late but…

“Hello?”

“Chanel!” she whispers excitedly. “It’s me, Ava.”

“Ava!” Chanel exclaims breathlessly. “Darling, where are you? Are you alright? JC sa-“

Ava looks over her shoulder, relieved she can still hear the shower running. “Look, I don’t have a whole lot of time right now, but can you come pick me up? Or send JC?”

“Yes, of course!” Chanel replies immediately. “Where are you?”

That was an excellent question. Ava shuffles around the room, eyes lighting up as a notepad catches her eye. “I’m in a motel. The…Europa. I think it’s in an area called-“

“That’s ok darling, I’ve got it,” Chanel interjects, a faint pinging sound echoing in the background. “We’ll be there soon,” she reassures her.

“Thanks. I owe you one.”

“Nonsense. Though maybe an explanation when you have a moment,” Chanel teases.

“I’ll try, though I’m kinda confused myself,” Ava laughs softly. “Anyway, I gotta go. I-“

Suddenly, the phone line goes dead and Ava spins around to find herself looking into the eyes of one very pissed off Beatrice.

_Shit._

_——_

“I know where Ava is,” Chanel announces as she tosses her phone on the table and shrugs on her satin jacket. She stalks towards the door, determination glinting in her eyes. “Let’s go!”

“But what about-“

“We can deal with that later.”

——

“I have a location,” Camila reports, tapping away at her tablet furiously. “Motel Europa in Tomares.”

Lilith raises her eyebrows at the address.

_Interesting choice Beatrice._

Mary throws the car into drive, revving the engine fiercely. “Everyone know what they need to do?”

With a smirk Lilith reclines in her seat, her favourite staff resting comfortably by her side. “I’m ready.”

_You can run, but you can’t hide Ava Silva._

_——_

“Superion!” The head of the OCS bellows from across the hall. “I want all available OCS squads down at the Motel Europa in Tomares NOW!”

Superion nods compliantly as she prepares to gather the troops, though inside her stomach knots painfully. “Godspeed Ava,” she murmurs. “Give em’ hell.”

——

“Ok, I know you’re mad,” Ava starts, her hands held out in a conciliatory gesture. “But to be fair, you did kidnap me. You can’t blame me for wanting to go back to my friends.”

“I don-“

“So really,” Ava barrels on, “you only have yourself to blame here. In fact, if you think about it I-“

“I don’t care for your excuses,” Beatrice cuts her off abruptly, eyes cold and impassive. “In fact, there is only one thing I want from you, and you’re going to give it to me. Right now. Understood?”

“W-what is that?” Ava stammers, her heart beating wildly out of her chest as Beatrice advances on her slowly, backing her into a wall.

“The truth.”

Ava gulps loudly.

_I am so fucked._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> If you have questions/requests/wanna say hi you can find me on Twitter @MementoVivere22 or Tumblr @ memento-vivere-20


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so full disclosure: I've been pretty sick with a cold this week which means me and the cough syrup have gotten pretty tight. I have no idea if any of this is coherent so...big yikes if not, but I wanted to put something out. If it's awful, I'll fix it/explain things better when I'm more coherent, I promise!
> 
> Also, as some of you may know, this chapter was waaayy longer (like over 10k) so it's actually been split. The other half is mostly done, just in the editing phase...though, I should probably leave that for when I'm off the syrup.
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading!

Steam swirls in the air as hot water beads down Beatrice’s skin, and she practically purrs in contentment. This is exactly what she needed after everything that has happened in the past twenty four hours. She feels as though her whole world has been turned upside down, and yet she’s not even sure why it was tilted on its axis in the first place.

This was meant to be a simple job. Quick, clean, and uncomplicated. Yet here she was, on the run with the package herself, hiding in the shower of a cheap motel room, after gassing her own teammates.

It’s jarring, how easily she has fallen into a comfortable rhythm with Ava. A slightly off-kilter, madcap rollercoaster of a rhythm, but a rhythm nonetheless. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever think they would share anything in common, and yet she finds Ava strangely...relatable. Human, and not just a job.

Every second she spends with Ava Silva is a second more that she feels a part of her sparking alive again...a part of her that she thought was long since buried. She knew that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

In the space of ten hours, Ava has breached Beatrice’s carefully crafted defenses, destroying all semblance of professionalism that the agent held dear and putting her prized career in jeopardy in the process.

It was maddening. It was exhilarating.

But most of all, it was _dangerous._

Ava was distracting, and in the worst possible way. It wasn’t just because she was insanely attractive (not that Beatrice had noticed that), but it was the way that Ava was able to flip just about every conversation on its head with no effort whatsoever. Beatrice, who was laser focused with pinpoint precision, lost all semblance of control the moment Ava started running her mouth. One minute Beatrice was questioning Ava about her contacts, the next they were talking about cookies and sex tapes. Annoyingly, Beatrice couldn’t even find it within herself to be mad about it.

Worse, she couldn’t even stop it from happening. It was a ride that she happily boarded again, and again, and again. In fact, to add to her everlasting shame, Beatrice has now found herself indulging Ava’s antics, looking forward to whatever the young woman is going to come up with next.

Not that she would ever let Ava know that. No, in public Beatrice has to present herself with decorum, someone who rises above such childish antics and is not swayed by a pretty face. Someone who is the consummate professional and who does not enjoy Ava Silva’s company in any way, shape, or form.

Privately however…well, there’s no harm in letting her thoughts and feelings have free rein.

A faint ping catches Beatrice’s attention and she quickly steps out of the shower with a frown. Nobody had her personal number, not even her teammates. Her burner phone was an insurance policy, something to fall back on in case things ever went sideways and she needed to secure a line of communication that couldn’t be traced. It was intended for a situation such as this, and though she knows things have been a bit of a blur since the motel, she couldn’t even remember turning the device on.

And yet…

Hesitantly, she unlocks the phone to find a blank message with an attachment from an unknown number. She chews her lip, staring at it dubiously. It could be a trap, a virus of some sort that would enable them to be tracked.

As she stands there, wrapped in a towel debating her next move another message comes through.

_She’s not who you think she is._

Perhaps it was a trap, but blast it, Beatrice has to know. This operation had felt off from the start, and she _knew_ that something wasn’t right with Ava the moment she walked out of that orphanage.

Hands shaking, Beatrice taps on the attachment, a feeling of dread creeping up her spine as she braces for the worst. Two photographs finally fill her screen, and her heart sinks at the sight that greets her. She closes her eyes briefly, unwilling to believe the evidence that was now laid bare before her. Against her better judgement, Beatrice tries numerous times to rationalize the photos away, but no matter how she twists and turns, each time she comes to the same devastating conclusion.

She’s been played. Ava Silva has been playing her the _whole_ time.

_That little liar!_

Oh she was going to make Ava Silva - or whatever her name was - wish she had never crossed Beatrice’s path.

——

The black van squeals to a stop outside of the Motel Europa, and Crimson jumps out immediately, her black combat boots hitting the asphalt with a satisfying thud. She quickly scans her surroundings as her OCS team follows closely behind, each of them suiting up and readying their weapons. More vans arrive at the parking lot, each one carrying more OCS agents than the last, and Crimson holds back a groan at the sight.

She and her team were more than capable of dealing with this situation. The sheer amount of OCS agents that filled the parking lot seemed like unnecessary overkill, but whatever. Maybe it would make the job more fun.

With a loud whistle, she signals to the squads to form a tight circle around her. “Alright, listen up. Vera and I will be running point with the Alpha Team. We will move north from the south end of the motel. Raquel, you will take Bravo Team and move east to west. Ella, Jacqueline and Rossi, your teams will monitor both levels and seal off all exit points, especially the parking lot. Be sure to secure the perimeter. We must retain complete control at all times. Understood?”

The agents all nod their assent as they check their weapons, some bouncing on their toes as if itching to start raining bloody hell down on their targets.

“Good. We move out in five. Get ready to play!”

——

Beatrice shimmies into her clothes at a blinding speed the moment she hears Ava’s hushed voice from the other room, and she rushes from the bathroom hoping that she’s misunderstood the entire situation.

Her heart constricts painfully as she draws closer to Ava, the younger woman gleefully plotting her escape as Beatrice hovers right behind her. The betrayal stings, like hot coals searing her flesh, and the agent swallows back the acid that rises in her throat.

She was right. Ava _has_ been playing her the whole time.

Clenching her jaw, Beatrice wills away any sort of feelings she may have about the matter - about _Ava -_ as she storms over to the wall and yanks the cord clear from the jack with a satisfying _snap._ Beatrice tenses as she waits with seized breath for the inevitable moment that Ava will turn around, when she will look into Beatrice’s eyes and pretend yet again that she trusts the agent…that she actually _enjoys_ her company, that she _wants_ to flirt with her.

“Ok, I know you’re mad,” Ava starts, her hands held out in a conciliatory gesture. “But to be fair, you did kidnap me. You can’t blame me for wanting to go back to my friends.”

_So she’s going to play dumb. Typical._

“I don-“

“So really,” Ava barrels on, “you only have yourself to blame here. In fact, if you think about it I-“

_No, don’t let her deflect. Be cold Beatrice. Remember, you’re a professional. The top agent of the OCS. Show her you mean business._

“I don’t care for your excuses,” Beatrice cuts her off abruptly, eyes cold and impassive. She starts to advance on Ava slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. “In fact, there is only one thing I want from you, and you’re going to give it to me. Right now. Understood?”

“W-what is that?”

Beatrice’s heart flips over in her chest at the fear in Ava’s voice as she slowly backs her into the wall. Instinctively she pulls back, and she immediately curses herself for her weakness.

_Stay strong. She’s a liar. A stone cold liar._

An inner battle rages inside her, but Beatrice ignores it as holds Ava’s gaze steadily. “The truth.”

As she pins Ava against the wall, Beatrice keenly watches for any telltale signs of discomfort or deception. The younger woman’s eyes widen at her actions, and Beatrice _thinks_ she sees the slightest sign of panic cross her features, but it passes too quickly to be sure.

“Well?” Beatrice prompts, practically bracketing Ava’s frame with her own.

The younger woman tenses underneath her, and against her better judgement, the agent relaxes her stance slightly. The move seems to catch Ava’s attention and she tilts her head back, searching Beatrice’s eyes for…something.

After a long moment, Ava seems to find what she is looking for and she rests against the wall, her body loose and eyes sparkling. Beatrice thins her lips as she tries valiantly to decode Ava’s body language, while simultaneously bracing herself for whatever madness is surely about to ensue.

_Whatever happens, stay focused. Do NOT let her distract you._

Ava sighs heavily, her eyes meeting Beatrice’s with a sense of weary resignation. “You’re right…I have been hiding something from you.”

_I knew it!_

Beatrice schools her features. “Go on.”

“While this is my natural hair colour, I may have _on occasion,_ squirted lemon juice into it. The nuns said that it could give you natural blonde highlights and you know…I think it worked?! Also, I always tell people that my teeth are naturally straight but honestly,” Ava leans in close, her warm breath ghosting over the shell of Beatrice’s ear, “I totally wore a retainer,” she whispers conspiratorially.

Grinding her teeth in frustration, Beatrice instantly pulls away from the little demon in front of her and paces to the other side of the room, suddenly wanting to put as much space between the two of them as possible. “Don’t be cute,” she snaps.

A cheeky smile tugs at Ava’s lips. “You think I’m cute?”

Oh no. She was _not_ falling for that trick again. She was wise to Ava’s sly flirtations now, and she won’t be made a fool of again.

_Keep your focus. Remember, she’s a liar._

Beatrice pins Ava with a hard stare. “Who are you?” she demands. “And don’t even _think_ about lying to me.”

A look of genuine confusion washes over Ava’s face. It baffles Beatrice to no end.

“You know who I am,” Ava replies, the bewilderment lingering on her face. “ _You’re_ the one who kidnapped me remember?”

Beatrice remembers. As if she could forget with a certain someone reminding her every two minutes. Still, she won’t let herself get sidetracked with this petty argument again. It’s obviously Ava’s plan, and she refuses to give her the satisfaction.

Instead, Beatrice decides to take a different tact. Start slow and build up. “The file states that Ava Silva is supposed to be eight,” she states plainly. “And yet here you are, and not only are you not eight, you don’t even seem eighteen.”

The hint that perhaps Beatrice is onto her doesn’t seem to rattle Ava in the slightest, and confusion only builds within Beatrice. While the photographs were admittedly grainy, Beatrice had been so sure of her conclusions when she stepped out of that bathroom. But so far she has yet to land a hit. Ava seems completely calm and at ease despite Beatrice’s best efforts, while the experienced agent is stumbling around, hopelessly off-balance.

_How does she always do this?!_

Ava simply shrugs nonchalantly. “If it makes you feel better, I _was_ eight once. I was super cute then too,” she adds, leaning forward with an exaggerated wink.

Beatrice resists the urge to strangle her. _Barely._

“Are you honestly going to stand there and with a straight face tell me that _you_ are Ava Silva?”

“Who else would I be?!” Ava cries as she throws up her hands, frustration seeping into her tone. “I gotta say, your organization really aren’t sending their best.”

The insinuation that Ava believes she is a sub-par agent prickles at Beatrice, and it takes all of her willpower not to snap back at the woman with a long list of her accolades. However, she knows that right now there are bigger issues to deal with than her ego.

Ava would find out in time just _how good_ she was at her job. She would rue the day she ever doubted it.

“Things don’t add up Miss Silva. Our intel clearly stated that we were picking up an eight year old girl,” Beatrice insists stubbornly, refusing to let this line of questioning go.

“Well your intel sucks.”

“Our intel has always been flawless before. Why would it be wrong this time?”

“How should I know?” Ava asks incredulously. “It sounds to me like you and your organization have some things to hash out. I’m not seeing how any of this is _my_ problem.”

Well, Beatrice had to admit that she technically had a point there. She would be writing a strongly worded letter to the head of the OCS about this debacle once all was said and done. Now however, she had more pressing matters to deal with, namely the pretty little liar standing in front of her.

Granted, Ava hasn’t been ruffled _yet,_ but Beatrice is just getting started. She supposed she could just confront Ava with the photos. But she has no idea what Ava is up to, and the last thing Beatrice wants to do is alert her to the existence of her burner phone. It’s too great a risk. The fact that there is an unknown entity out there who already knows about it is bad enough. No, Beatrice is just going to have to do this the old fashioned way.

“How old are you?”

“Don’t worry babe, I’m legal,” Ava teases as she leans forward with a wink. “You’re in the clear.”

“T-that’s n-not,” Beatrice stutters, suddenly flailing like a kite on a windy day. “I wasn’t asking because of, you know…” she trails off awkwardly. “I was asking because…because…”

“Because you wanna be my girlfriend?” Ava supplies helpfully, her eyes wide an innocent. “It’s a little fast, but when you know, you _know.”_

Beatrice takes a long, calming breath. And another. And another.

It doesn’t help. Perhaps she should move on to a different line of interrogation and circle back to the age question later. Just to keep things fresh of course.

“France,” Beatrice starts, leaning against the door and doing her best to adopt a casual stance. “Y-“

“Croissants!” Ava yells enthusiastically, her eyes lighting up in excitement.

Beatrice frowns. “What?”

“Oh, I thought we were playing the word association game. You know, you say France, I say croissants, cuz that’s the first thing that comes to my mind,” Ava explains.

“We are not playing a game,” Beatrice replies, doing her damndest not to strangle the other woman. “I was asking you-“

“Although,” Ava continues thoughtfully, “that wasn’t my first thought to be honest.”

Now _that_ catches Beatrice’s attention. “It wasn’t?”

“Nope.”

“What was your first thought?”

“I dunno if I should say,” Ava hedges, “I don’t think you’ll like it.”

This was it; Beatrice just _knew_ it. “No, please go ahead. You can tell me the truth Ava.”

“Well, if you insist,” Ava replies. Slowly, she makes her way over to Beatrice and leans in close, her mouth curving up in a smile, “voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir,” she purrs, her eyebrows waggling suggestively.

Beatrice feels her cheeks flush wildly at Ava’s words, her mind suddenly flooded with inappropriate images of the woman in front of her. She feels warm, as though she has just been thrown into the sun, and she wonders if there will ever come a time when Ava will not make her feel this way.

_Focus Beatrice. She’s a liar remember?_

Shaking her head, Beatrice attempts to dispel the Ava-induced fog that is now clouding her mind. It takes all of her willpower, but the agent refocuses her attention, eventually remembering why they were even having this conversation in the first place.

“T-that’s not quite what I had in mind,” Beatrice chokes out, wondering why it feels so bloody hot in this room. Honestly, was the thermostat broken?!

Ava shrugs as she retreats and flops down on the bed. “You asked.”

“I really wish I hadn’t to be honest.”

“Ooooh I get it…you want to be wooed. I can do that,” Ava nods thoughtfully. “Prepare to be swept off your feet babe.”

Beatrice inhales sharply at the sweetly spoken words. But a mean little voice whispers in her ear, and the flutter in her heart is harsh when she remembers that this is all a game to Ava. That _she_ is just a game to Ava.

Beatrice clears her throat pointedly. _“Anyway,”_ she says, choosing to sidestep Ava’s flirtations entirely. “Germany. And no, this is not a word association game.”

Ava deflates at the premature shutdown. “What about it?”

_Yes Beatrice, what about it?_

She knew that this interrogation had gone flying off the rails. She barely knew which way was up, and which way was down. Her line of questioning was fuzzy, and she couldn’t remember where she was going with any of it…and it was all because of the little demon in front of her.

Luckily for Beatrice, Ava decides to just take the conversation into her own hands.

“I can speak German,” Ava declares, a proud smile on her face.

Beatrice doesn’t even try to hide her shock. “You can?”

_This is it. This is the moment you catch her._

“Yep!”

_I can’t believe she’s just offering this sort of information. What an absolute amateur!_

Beatrice feels her heart thrumming in her chest, and she balls her fists to keep from doing something stupid like punching the air. She’s _almost_ got her…she just needs to stay calm and let Ava lead.

“Well, go on then. I can’t wait to hear it, ” Beatrice prods her, an innocent smile on her face.

Ava leans forward on the bed eagerly, her eyes twinkling. “Ready?”

Beatrice nods dutifully.

“Lesbich,” Ava says with a goofy smile, looking far too pleased with herself.

Beatrice simply stares at her, wholly unimpressed.

“It means les-“

“I know what it means,” Beatrice snaps.

“Oook…you seemed confused so I was just making sure,” Ava replies, looking almost hurt at Beatrice’s response.

A heavy tension blankets the space around them, and against her better judgement Beatrice finds herself feeling guilty for being so short with Ava. She wants to slap herself.

_She’s a liar! She doesn’t deserve your kindness!_

Shaking it off, Beatrice decides to try an entirely different line of questioning. “Ava…how long were you in the orphanage?”

“Can’t say I really kept track babe,” Ava replies as she reclines on the bed, her body displaying no signs of tension.

“It’s not something you forget,” Beatrice insists, her eyes closely monitoring Ava for _any_ sign of discomfort. To her great annoyance, the woman remains impassive.

“Dunno what you want me to say,” Ava replies with a casual shrug. “It’s not a place you keep attendance. If you want exact dates, I’m sure Francis can give you the paperwork.”

“Perhaps I’ll give her a call,” Beatrice says, the underlying threat clearly implied. Again, Ava’s face betrays nothing, and it frustrates the agent to no end.

“Knock yourself out babe.”

Beatrice frowns at her non-reaction. Ava’s body language throughout the whole interrogation has been completely relaxed. She’s held the appropriate amount of eye contact, her breathing has always remained steady, her voice well-modulated…Ava was truly the most challenging case that the agent has ever come across.

It was astounding really. Ava has not once wobbled or displayed the slightest sense of unease as Beatrice flung both direct and indirect questions her way. Words and phrases that would likely cause panic in a guilty party simply elicited the same sort of Ava-esque reactions as Beatrice had come to expect from the woman.

That being said, Beatrice could count on one hand the amount of times Ava had _actually_ answered a question. But then again, the agent struggled to recall any moments in their time together that Ava has ever answered a question directly, or even participated in conversations like a normal human being. Holding her to socially acceptable standards was almost unfair given her track record of behaviour.

All in all, nothing makes sense. Beatrice had been sent physical proof that Ava was lying, but so far her interrogation of the woman has yielded no such results. So either the proof she had mysteriously received was doctored, or Beatrice was being fooled by Ava to an embarrassing extent.

She didn’t know which was worse.

Beatrice tilts her head as she considers Ava thoughtfully. Currently the woman didn’t seem to be a danger to her. In fact, she can’t imagine any scenario where Ava could ever pose a risk to her safety. So maybe Beatrice should just let this play out. _If,_ Ava is lying, what does she get out of it? And who is to say that the mysterious tipster doesn’t have bad intentions? Perhaps they _want_ to separate her from Ava. Besides, how did they even get her number in the first place?

There were far too many questions, and Beatrice has far too few answers. All she knows is that that damn string is back, tugging on her once more, and it's telling her to stay with Ava. To trust Ava. To _protect_ Ava. Whether she is lying about her age, or her childhood is irrelevant right now. First, they need to get out of town. Once they are both safe, then they can return to this conversation. Hopefully.

“So, how long did you live wherever it was you grew up Miss Photographic Memory?” Ava asks curiously, her question breaking into Beatrice’s thoughts.

“I lived with my parents for the first fourteen years of my life, and then went to boarding school until I graduated,” Beatrice replies automatically.

Ava’s eyes light up at her answer and in an instant she’s sitting up and shuffling forward on the bed eagerly. “Boarding school? Interesting. Was this an all-girls situation? Were there uniforms? Did you-“

“We are not talking about me right now,” Beatrice cuts in, wanting to head this particular rabbit hole off at the pass.

_“I_ am,” Ava replies, pouting impressively.

Beatrice shoots her a dark look. “Well _I_ want-

Suddenly, the wall explodes right next to Beatrice’s head, sending shards of wood and plaster flying across the room.

“BEATRICE!”

——

As the SUV zips through the winding streets of Tomares, Camila thanks whatever god is listening that she took her anti-nausea pills that morning. Mary’s driving was certainly not for the faint hearted.

A faint ping catches her attention, and she glances down at the tablet that rests idly in her hands. A message appears in her chat window and Camila does a double take, her mouth gaping slightly at the content. She double taps and zooms in, disbelief written all over her face.

_No…that can’t be right._

“Everything ok back there?” Mary calls, her brows furrowing in concern. “You don’t look so great.”

Camila sends her team leader a reassuring smile as she minimizes her screen. “Oh, I’m fine. I think I just drank too much tea. Gave myself indigestion.”

Lilith rolls her eyes. “I told you to go easy,” she tuts. “Honestly Camila. Anyone would think this was your first time in the field.”

“Leave her alone,” Mary says as she takes a hard right, “it’s been a weird day. All of us are outta wack.”

“Still. We need to be at our best.”

“And I will be,” Camila promises as she quickly deletes her chat history, scrubbing all evidence of communication in a matter of seconds.. “I want to succeed just as much as you. _Trust me.”_

——

“What the fuck was that!” Ava exclaims, her ears still ringing from the explosion as she tugs Beatrice over to the bed, her eyes frantically searching for any hint of injury. Jane Bond seems to be unharmed and Ava sighs in relief, unwilling to dwell on why she was so panicked about Beatrice’s wellbeing in the first place.

To be honest, now that Ava knows that Beatrice is ok, she’s kinda grateful for the interruption. Things were getting a _little_ too hot in the kitchen with Beatrice poking around, but Ava thought she did a pretty good job of tap dancing her way out of trouble. She even managed to show off her German.

All in all, a successful ‘Razzle Dazzle’ as she likes to call it.

Besides, thanks to whatever just blew through their wall, she’s fairly certain that Beatrice will be suitably distracted from any further questioning. For now at least.

Beatrice sends her a glare as she dusts off her shoulders. “We’ve been found. Thanks to _you.”_

Ava’s mouth drops open in disbelief. Was Jane Bond really trying to pin this mess on _her?!_

“Me?!” she cries out. “How is this _my_ fault?! _You’re_ the one who thought this was such a great hide out spot!”

_“You’re_ the one who thought it was such a great idea to call your friend and tell her where we were hiding!” Beatrice snaps back as she stomps over to her bag and starts to stash knives into every fold of her clothing.

Ava would be impressed - and a little turned on - if she wasn’t so fucking mad at being blamed for _everything._ Did Beatrice forget, yet again, that _she_ was the victim in this whole situation?

“Oh come on! I spoke to her like five minutes ago,” Ava replies defensively. “There’s no way she could have gotten here so fast. Plus, in case you haven’t noticed, someone just tried to BLOW US UP!” she exclaims, her voice rising hysterically. “Chanel wouldn’t do that, she’s my friend!”

Beatrice shoots her a dubious look. “Are you sure about that?”

_Oh no she didn’t!_

“YES!” Ava explodes, her chest heaving in anger. “Unlike _your_ friends, mine don’t have a history of being shady little fuckers with guns!”

Beatrice inhales sharply as she looks at her feet, seemingly chastened by the reminder. “You have a point,” she admits begrudgingly. “Come on. We need to get out of here. Now.”

Ava’s heart drops at her words. It surprises her, how much she wants to leave with Beatrice. How much she wants to continue this crazy adventure with the stranger in front of her…but she can’t. Not anymore.

Chanel is coming for her and she can’t just abandon her friends. She had a whole life before Beatrice came crashing into it, and it was time to get back to it.

Shaking her head, Ava sighs heavily. “Look Bea, this has been fun and all but-

“Ava, I am your best chance at staying alive right now. I-“

“So you keep saying. But from where I’m standing, every time I’m with you guns are going off. Excuse me if I don’t exactly feel safe.”

_Liar liar, pants on fire!_

Ava has never felt safer in her life. Which was absolutely ridiculous seeing as she has known Beatrice for less than a day. Against her better judgement, she has actually started to enjoy Jane Bond’s company (especially the flirting), and she trusts her implicitly to keep her safe.

But that was the problem wasn’t it? She trusts Beatrice. Too much. And trusting someone she barely knows…that’s dangerous. Ava just wants to live, and in order to do that she needs to get far away from Jane Bond.

As Ava looks over at Beatrice and sees the pleading look in her eyes, that damn string starts tugging insistently once again. It refuses to abandon its quest, instead growing stronger with every second she spends in Beatrice’s company.

But that string needs to be cut. _Now._

Beatrice steps forward, her hand outstretched. “Please just li-“

A lump rose in Ava’s throat and she shakes her head vehemently. Her flight instinct is kicking in again and it propels her towards the door, even as her heart is screaming at her to stay with Beatrice. To _protect_ Beatrice.

_No! She’s not your problem. You don’t owe her anything._

Ava pauses at the entryway and forces herself to put on a brave face as she gives Beatrice a jaunty wave. “Well, time for me to bounce. Knock ‘em dead babe!”

“Ava wait!”

——

Beatrice’s heart pounds violently in her chest as she watches Ava burst out of the room as though she were on fire. Wood flies around her as bullets impact on the nearby furniture and Beatrice grits her teeth as she loads up her guns and prepares to storm outside and pull Ava back to safety. By her bloody hair if necessary.

As it turns out, it isn’t necessary after all.

“Holy shit!” Ava pants as she bolts back into the room and slams the door behind her. “They almost blew my head off!”

Beatrice raises her eyebrows at Ava’s words. Well, it certainly couldn’t be her team out there then. While she’s sure they likely wouldn’t hesitate to take a shot at her, the general consensus amongst her teammates had always been that Ava was not to be harmed. She is certain that would still hold true, regardless of wherever their true allegiances may lie.

Which means…someone else was out there. Someone with a _very_ different mission to the OCS squad. Someone who knew where and how to find them.

This was not good _at all._

“Did you see who it was?” Beatrice asks, sidling up to the shattered window in the hopes she might catch a glimpse of their new foes.

“No, I was a little busy trying not to get shot in the fucking face,” Ava retorts sarcastically, running a hand through her unruly mop of hair.

The reminder that someone had just tried to hurt Ava sets off a maelstrom of emotions inside Beatrice, and she clenches her fist painfully. While she understood the desire to throttle Ava Silva - God knows, she’s felt the urge on more than one occasion - that didn’t mean that anyone else was allowed to lay a finger on her. Beatrice would be damned if she let another person hurt Ava, regardless of their current…issues.

“Of course,” Beatrice replies, sending her a soothing smile. “It’s just, it doesn’t make sen-“

Ava tunes her out as she turns around and quickly ties her hair up in a tight ponytail. “Give me your gun,” she demands, staring out the window with a fire in her eyes that has Beatrice both alarmed and a little turned on.

_For God’s sake, be a professional!_

“What?”

“Give me your gun,” Ava repeats slowly but purposefully. “Those assholes just shot at me. I’m gonna give ‘em a taste of their own medicine.”

“Do you even know how to use a gun?”

“Sure,” Ava shrugs. “Point and shoot. Pew pew!”

The answer doesn’t fill Beatrice with any amount of confidence, and she finds herself hugging the rifle tighter to her chest. “Ava, no.”

“Ava _yes.”_

“I’m not giving you a weapon that you don’t even know how to use!”

“Relax babe,” Ava replies, waving off her concerns. “I’ve always been a prestigious talent.”

“Prodigious,” Beatrice corrects absently, as she glances out the window once more _._

“Sure prodigious, whatever,” Ava shrugs. “For example, did you know that I can fit ten whole marshmallows in my mouth? Almost made it to eleven, but Zori made me laugh then I choked. I was soooo close,” she wails mournfully as a loud boom echoes in the distance.

Against her better judgement, Beatrice finds herself getting sucked into Ava’s nonsensical vortex once more. _“That’s_ your talent?” she asks incredulously, unsure whether to be disgusted or impressed by the feat.

“How many marshmallows can _you_ fit in your mouth?” Ava challenges her, looking vaguely affronted at Beatrice’s judgmental tone.

“I don’t see any reason for there to be more than one.”

“And that’s why _I’m_ the talent,” Ava replies smugly.

Beatrice huffs out a mocking laugh. “I think you have a very loose definition of the word.”

“Well _I_ think-“

“Look,” she cuts in as another loud boom shakes the entire building, “we have gotten wildly off track here. The point is-“

“The point is that you should give me a gun. I got this!”

_“Listen_ to me,” Beatrice says, practically pleading with the younger woman to hear her words. “We need to sneak out the back-“

“You wanna run away?”

“It’s not _running away,_ it’s called making a strategic retreat,” Beatrice shoots back, unsure why she feels the need to defend her honour to someone who likely couldn’t tell the difference between a shotgun and a rifle.

“It’s called being a chicken shit,” Ava replies as she moves into Beatrice’s space, pushing up on her tiptoes as she stares directly into Beatrice’s eyes. “Cluck, cluck, cluckety _cluck,”_ she smirks.

It takes all of Beatrice’s willpower not to slam the girl back into the wall to show her just how dangerous she could be when she chooses to engage. But now was not the time to get into a power struggle, however tempting it may be.

How could she explain to Ava that, even though she doesn’t entirely trust her, there is still a burning need within Beatrice to keep her safe? That the thought of any harm coming to her brought Beatrice unspeakable pain? She barely understood it herself, and she could only imagine how ludicrous Ava would find it.

She would probably laugh right in Beatrice’s pathetic face. No, the agent needs to put on a strong front. Make Ava think that she wants to retreat for purely strategic reasons, and not because she’s scared of what could happen if they don’t.

Ignoring Ava’s baiting, Beatrice plows on. “Listen, we are outnumbered, and while I do believe I could take them, I don’t want to.”

Ava barks out a disbelieving laugh. “Sure Bea, I could take King Kong, _I just don’t want to,”_ she mocks in a poor imitation of Beatrice’s voice.

“I’m sorry, but weren’t _you_ the one who ran away less than a few minutes ago? You left me here to deal with this alone. Now all of a sudden you are fight instead of flight?”

Ava looks off to the side and if Beatrice didn’t know better, she would think the girl was actually blushing. “Yeah well…not my finest moment I guess,” she admits as she rubs the back of her neck awkwardly. “I’m usually a flight kinda girl. But I’m here now. Plus, those assholes fucking shot at me! _And,_ they ruined my leather jacket. See?” she pouts, pointing to a torn patch of leather.

Beatrice tries her damndest to ignore how cute Ava looks while pouting, and instead focuses on the more pressing matter. “Be that as it may, the smarter strategy is still to retreat. We don’t kno-“

“Cluck, cluck, CLUUUCKKK!” Ava singsongs as she flaps her arms and prances around in a circle.

Beatrice pinches the bridge of her nose and closes her eyes, valiantly trying to ignore the blatant immaturity on display. “Ava _please-”_

Surprisingly, Ava stops her flapping immediately and comes to rest a hand on Beatrice’s arm. “Don’t worry Bea, I’ll protect you,” she vows solemnly, her big brown eyes full of sincerity.

“I don’t need _you_ to protect me,” Beatrice insists stubbornly, though she softens her tone at Ava’s sweet declaration. “I need you to listen t-“

Apparently deciding she’s heard enough, Ava rolls her eyes and wrenches the rifle from Beatrice’s hands, stomping towards the door with barely a backwards glance. Heart in her hands, Beatrice watches on in horror as Ava steps out onto the balcony, gun raised in the air without a hint of cover in sight. She stands there proudly, as if daring their assailants to take a shot and Beatrice can’t help but think that this girl has a death wish.

Ava sends her a cocky smirk before she turns to the parking lot and aims the gun. “I hope you brought your diapers,” she calls out to their enemies below, “BECAUSE I’M ABOUT TO KICK THE EVERLASTING SHIT OUTTA YOU!!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> If you have questions/requests/wanna say hi you can find me on Twitter @MementoVivere22 or Tumblr @ memento-vivere-20


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh...so here we are again eh? Apologies for my terrible action writing skills but honestly it was this mess or me just writing "pew pew pew" for like 2000 words...come to think about it, not sure which would have been better?!
> 
> As always, thanks for reading :)

“Wait, do you hear that?” Mary asks as they pull up at the motel. Dashing off a quick message, the team leader surreptitiously slips her phone into her coat pocket and leans forward on the wheel, her eyes scanning the parking lot with interest.

The furious tapping from the backseat stops as Camila sets aside her tablet and wedges herself between the center console. “It sounds like gunfire,” she says thoughtfully as she stares out of the windshield. “A lot of it.”

Lilith nods in agreement, her nostrils flaring angrily. “Beatrice must have known we were coming. She’s obviously created some kind of distraction.”

As much as it pains Mary to agree with Lilith, the agent is probably right. This sort of diversion is definitely up Beatrice’s alley. Distract her team with a credible threat while she escapes out the back with the package.

_Of course she had a backup plan. Typical Beatrice._

As another round of bullets sound out through the night, Mary shakes her head in wry amusement. She had to hand it to her. The woman was top of her class in SERE for a reason after all.

“Do you think she’s told whoever these people are to shoot at _us?”_ Camila asks with a worried frown on her face.

“Possibly,” Lilith answers as she fiddles with her phone.

“No,” Mary says firmly, glaring at Lilith. “Whatever is going on with Beatrice, I know she would never want to harm us. Not seriously anyway.”

“You can’t know that,” Lilith insists as she pockets her device. “Do you really want to take that chance?”

A memory, unwanted and painful, dances across Mary’s mind at Lilith’s words. Shannon in the moments before she died. Shannon choosing to trust her team, the organization that she gave her life for…Shannon dying at the hands of a traitor who Mary was still yet to unmask.

Did she really want to take the chance that Beatrice wouldn’t kill them? That she wouldn’t kill her?

Could Beatrice have been the one to kill Shannon?

_Not now. Don’t think about this now. Focus on your mission._

Mary takes a deep breath, making sure to keep her voice steady and calm. “I’m choosing to trust her.”

“Well, it’s your funeral,” Lilith shrugs. “Forgive me if I’m a little more skeptical of the woman who just gassed me.”

The reminder has Mary clenching her teeth, the smell of the gas still lingering on her clothes. Frankly, she couldn’t blame Lilith…Beatrice wasn’t exactly making herself any friends lately.

“There is a lot of gunfire,” Camila notes as they pile out of the car and suit up. “Where did she find so many armed people in so little time?”

“Who says she only had a little time? She could have been planning this for weeks, or even months!”

“Look, just trust your training. You got this,” Mary says, her voice filled with far more optimism than she felt inside as she sends Lilith a glare.

Camila nods bravely, though Mary can see the tremble in her fingers as she finishes buckling up her vest. Lilith rolls her eyes, but wisely keeps her mouth shut for once.

“Remember, the goal of this mission is to keep Ava safe,” Mary continues as she finishes suiting up. “So no matter how pissed off we are with Beatrice, we make sure that Ava is unharmed. Understood?”

“Understood,” Camila and Lilith reply in perfect unison.

“Alright,” Mary nods as she readies her shotguns, “let’s move out.”

——

A wall explodes right above Beatrice’s head, sending shards of wood and plaster raining down on her body. The gunfire stops momentarily, and she raises her head to see Ava perched on a railing, returning to her taunts from only seconds before the explosion.

“You missed me assholes! Are you even trying?!”

A barrage of bullets instantly flies through the air in her direction, and the younger woman ducks down behind a pillar with an angry scowl on her face. She waits there for several seconds before quickly popping up again.

“STOP SHOOTING AT ME!!!” Ava yells, stomping her foot childishly.

_Oh for God’s sake!_

Dropping to the floor, Beatrice slides out of the room and along the concrete balcony in an army crawl as she desperately reaches for Ava to pull her down to the ground. With a harsh tug, she drags the younger woman back towards their room, pushing her to take cover behind a heavy dresser, joining her after firing off a few quick rounds.

“Ow! What the hell Bea?!” Ava complains, rubbing her elbow with a frown. “I almost had ‘em!”

“Yes, I’m sure they were shaking in their boots,” Beatrice replies dryly as she reloads. “You were giving away our position.”

“Hate to break it to you, but I think they knew we were here.”

Beatrice stashes a few extra clips in her pockets. “In situations such as this, it is beneficial to have the element of surprise. You need to keep your voice down.”

Ava pouts petulantly. “But they’re the ones who-“

“I don’t want to hear it!” Beatrice snaps as she casually launches one of her grenades out of the shattered window. “You’re thoughtless, you’re reckless, and you’re going to get us both killed!”

Ava falters at her harsh words, the fight suddenly draining out of her. “Wait...you really think these people want to kill me? That they want to kill _us?_ Like, for _real?!”_

“Of course! What on earth do you think is going on here?!” Beatrice asks her incredulously as she waves around at the general chaos surrounding them.

Ava throws both of her hands up, her tone bordering on hysteria. “I don’t know!”

With a heavy sigh, Beatrice blindly fires off a few shots before facing Ava once more. “You are a mystery to me Ava.”

“Great. But that doesn’t help me in the slightest.”

Beatrice tilts her head to consider the young woman in front of her. She was either telling the truth and she truly had no idea why the OCS was sent to protect her - or why there were people currently trying to kill her - or she did, and she didn’t want to confess her sins to Beatrice in fear of what she thought the agent might to do her.

The thing is…as much as it annoys Beatrice to admit it, she can’t fathom _any_ scenario where she would want to hurt Ava. Granted, she has imagined strangling the woman more than once in her mind, but in reality…she could never bring any harm to her. She would always have this incessant need to protect her and ensure her safety. She knew that would hold true even if Ava was lying her absolute face off about everything. Less than an hour ago Beatrice was beyond furious with the woman, so sure in her deception and unwilling to believe that Ava had anything but the worst of intentions but now…in the face of Ava being in _actual_ danger, none of that seemed important anymore.

For some reason that was far beyond her understanding, Beatrice trusted in Ava. The realization was both startling and extremely irksome.

“We were asked to collect you from the orphanage to protect you,” Beatrice finally says, a cacophony of explosions echoing around them.

Ava frowns, tilting her head like a confused puppy. “From who?”

“I don’t know,” she admits. “But when the time was right, we were to hand you over to the Americans. They were the ones who asked us to keep you safe.”

“Ugh,” Ava groans, slumping against the dresser with a disgusted look on her face. “Really?!”

“What?”

“I mean…love their movies and all that but…gotta say. Woulda preferred the Greeks to be after me ya know?”

_Don’t ask, don’t ask, don’t ask…_

Beatrice blinks. “The Greeks?” she asks, her voice lilting up in polite confusion.

“Yeah!” Ava exclaims, her eyes lighting up in excitement. “Wouldn’t it be awesome to hide away in the Greek islands? I could skip around in overalls! _Mamma Mia, here we go agaiinnn…my my, how could you resist me?”_ she croons, slightly off key, but making up for it with boundless enthusiasm.

Beatrice smiles, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “I don’t think those are the words.”

“Close enough. Ooooh I could say that I live on the island of Lesbos!” Ava says with a goofy grin on her face, even as bullets tear into the walls around them.

Beatrice tries _really_ hard not to be charmed by the woman in front of her, the absolute chaos unfolding outside becoming just a distant hum. Ava is funny, sweet, and not at all what the agent had expected…she was like someone that Beatrice had known her whole life, and yet an entirely new person, an enigma that she couldn’t wait to unravel.

It’s incredibly distracting.

She clears her throat, attempting to refocus. “Have you ever been to America?”

“I’ve watched a lot of their movies,” Ava replies as she pops her head up to take a peek out of the window. “Big fan of Ryan Reynolds. You know, Deadpool?”

Huffing, Beatrice tugs her back down to the ground. “Ryan Reynolds is Canadian.”

“Oh,” Ava sighs with disappointment as a bullet ricochets off a nearby doorway. “That tracks.”

“Ava, I need you to take this seriously. I’ve put my career on the line for you,” Beatrice says softly. “And I need you to understand that my job is to keep you safe. But I can’t do that if you don’t help me. Do you understand?”

Ava nods, looking more serious than Beatrice has ever seen her. “Bea I-I need to tell you something. I-“

Suddenly, something rolls through the window, a flash of light catching their attention instantly. They both sit up, ready to attack when smoke fills the room. Beatrice’s eyes widen, recognizing the grenade instantly.

“AVA, RUN!” she yells, grabbing as many weapons as she can carry, and pushing the woman out the door.

The flash of light quickly blooms into a bigger explosion, and both women are flung out of the room in a blast of heat, landing on the concrete balcony with a synchronized grunt. Together they crawl towards the stairwell and take cover behind a big cement pillar as thick plumes of smoke still swirl in the air.

“Well, that was rude,” Ava huffs, blowing a stray wisp of hair out of her face. “We were having a very serious conversation.”

“I don’t think they care about our conversations somehow,” Beatrice comments wryly.

She feels a shift in Ava, in _them,_ and she watches with curious interest as Ava seems to steel herself before looking into her eyes. Beatrice knows instinctively that this is it, this is the moment that Ava tells her what she’s been hiding. Finally, the woman trusts Beatrice enough to let her in, and the knowledge that her trust is reciprocated fills the agent with a sense of happiness that surprises her. She thought she would feel triumphant with the victory, but instead she feels…calm. Content. And shockingly, she doesn’t need to hear it. Not now at least.

Now, they have slightly more pressing matters to deal with.

“They should care,” Ava insists stubbornly. “I’m trying to say something impor-“

Another blast interrupts her, sending chunks of drywall and shards of stone flying into the space around them. They immediately duck away from the flying debris and race towards the fire escape, taking the stairs two at a time until they reach the top floor.

“I’m starting to think you’re right. They really do wanna kill us,” Ava pants, her cheeks flushed with exertion. “Listen Bea, I need to tell you something. I-“

“Ava,” Beatrice cuts in with a firm but kind voice, “as much as I appreciate your attempts of honesty now, _at the worst possible time,_ I’m just going to ask you one question okay?”

Ava scrunches her brows but nods.

Beatrice takes a deep breath and looks her squarely in the eye. “Do you mean me any harm?”

Her heart pounds painfully in her chest at the thought, even though she believes, deep down, that Ava truly isn’t capable of such betrayal. But of course…she _could_ be wrong…

“What? No!” Ava exclaims, shock written all over her face. “Of course not!”

Beatrice releases a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Then right now, that’s all I need to know. As long as I can depend on you to have my back, then the rest can wait until _after_ we make it out of here alive. Alright?”

Ava nods solemnly, her eyes full of warmth and sincerity. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

“Likewise,” Beatrice smiles, pointedly ignoring the way her heart flutters at Ava’s earnest assurance. “Now shall we?”

“Yeah, let’s kick some ass!”

The agent rolls her eyes as she drags Ava into a hidden nook, the two of them barely avoiding another round of bullets. The acrid smell of gunpowder lingers in the air, and Beatrice wonders just how much ammunition their enemies brought with them. If she didn’t know better, she would think it was a whole government operation down there.

“Stay in the alcove,” Beatrice says as she pops out from behind the wall and sprays bullets haphazardly. “They can’t get a clear shot in unless they move directly into our line of sight.”

“Can I have my gun back?”

“Ava n-“

“Come on!” Ava wheedles as bullets whizz past them. “You can’t take them on all by yourself.”

A flash of movement catches Beatrice’s eye and she inches closer to the alcove opening. “Hold that thought,” she murmurs. She pulls her arm back and with an expert flick of her wrist hurls a knife, watching in satisfaction as it arcs through the air and finds its target right into their assailant’s throat. “As you were saying?” she prompts, turning to face Ava smugly.

Ava narrows her eyes, but Beatrice can tell she’s at least a little bit impressed. She practically preens at the sight, her chest puffing up in pride. Beatrice knows she’s walking a very fine line with Ava - that one may even construe her actions as flirting - but she can’t help herself. She’s not sure that she wants to either.

“Well, if you’re so good with knives, I guess you don’t need the guns then huh?” Ava finally replies, her head cocked to the side in challenge.

Beatrice senses it, the moment her eyes meet Ava’s. The game is on again. But this time…it feels different. It feels _real._

And for once, Beatrice decides that she actually wants to play. Professionalism be damned.

“I don’t need them, but I _want_ them.”

Ava smirks, her eyes glittering with something dark and dangerous. “Well, do you know what _I_ want Beatrice?” she asks, slowly backing the agent into the wall.

Beatrice wets her lips, allowing herself to be cornered. She’s vaguely aware of helicopters hovering overhead, and rapid gunfire volleying back and forth down below. But right now, she can’t find it within herself to care about any of that, and she knows that makes her the worst secret agent in the world.

But…they were safe for the next few moments. She could have this. _They_ could have this. With numerous enemies closing in on them, who knows how much time they had left.

“What is that Miss Silva?” Beatrice replies, trying her damndest to keep her voice level.

Slowly Ava presses herself into Beatrice pinning her to the wall, and the agent feels the warmth with every fibre of her being. Her nerve endings spark as though they are on fire, and when Ava starts lightly trailing her hands up and down Beatrice’s body…well, she thinks she may actually spontaneously combust.

“Beatrice,” Ava whispers, slowly bringing one of her hands to gently rest over the agent’s stuttering heart.

“Mmm,” she replies, arching ever so slightly into Ava’s touch.

“What I really want,” Ava murmurs as her lips gently graze Beatrice’s ear, “is your gun.”

Beatrice’s eyes flutter open at her words and she bites back a groan, finding herself strangely turned on by Ava’s dirty tactics.

_Oh she’s good._

But two can play that game, and Beatrice is no slouch either.

“Well Miss Silva, if you want something then you should take it,” she replies boldly, her eyes glinting with unspoken challenge as she bites her lip purposefully.

Ava’s eyes instantly drop to her lips, and she presses in even closer, her mouth hovering millimeters from Beatrice’s own. “Maybe I will,” she hums, her hand tightening it’s grip on the agent’s waist as the other snakes around her neck. She wets her lips, her eyes darting to Beatrice’s once more. “Ca-“

A loud crackling explosion sounds out across the motel, and a rush of hot air fills the alcove, sending plaster and cement cascading down around them. Beatrice feels Ava instinctively bracket her body with her own as if to shield the agent from any flying debris, and Beatrice feels her heart flutter just that little bit more.

_Not now Beatrice. Do your job and focus!_

Gathering herself, Beatrice clears her throat and softly rests her hands on Ava’s shoulders. “Some other time perhaps,” she says smoothly, gently pushing the dazed woman aside to retrieve her rifle.

Ava shakes her head a few times, as if struggling to reorient herself. Beatrice can relate, but she certainly can’t let the other woman know that. She is a professional after all.

Eventually, Ava finds her voice. “So um..do you think maybe I cou-“

“Sight, trigger, and you reload like this,” Beatrice says, anticipating the request long before Ava had even thought to voice it. “Questions?”

“Nope!” Ava replies, shaking her head with a smile. “You explained it pretty well. I think I’m ready to,” she pauses for dramatic effect, her eyes twinkling mischievously, “give it a shot.”

Beatrice bites back a smile as she hands her the rifle. “Good. I aim to please.”

It takes Ava a few seconds, but when the agent’s words register, her mouth drops open in pure delight as she points at Beatrice ecstatically. “Ohhh! I see what you did there!” she exclaims, hopping up and down in glee.

Beatrice smiles as she loads up her own gun, feeling rather pleased with herself. “Come on,” she says, jerking her head towards the opening.

Ava jogs up alongside her, a grin still plastered on her face. “Is this our thing now?” she asks, gesturing between the two of them with unbridled excitement.

“Let’s survive this first, then we can see if it becomes a thing.”

Ava beams at her answer and practically skips to the end of the alcove, spinning the rifle dangerously. “Nothing like a little kiss kiss, bang bang to liven up our sex life huh?”

“We don’t have a sex life.”

_“Yet.”_

——

“Uh Chanel?”

“Yeah?” Chanel answers distractedly as she parks her BMW in a rather grubby looking parking lot.

“Why does it look like we’ve just rolled up to the set of the next Mission Impossible movie?”

Furrowing her brows in confusion, Chanel snaps her head up immediately at JC’s words, her mouth dropping open as she takes in the scenes through her windshield. Dozens of people dressed all in black are swarming the motel guns blazing as bullets fly all around them. A helicopter hovers overhead, and multiple dark vans circle the parking lot as though sealing off the area to passerby’s.

“What the actual fuck,” she murmurs, her eyes as round as saucers. Whipping out her phone, she snaps some pictures of the absolute pandemonium happening right in front of them and gestures for JC to do the same. “Film this. Uncle will want to see it.”

“Sure. You know,” JC muses thoughtfully as his camera tracks one particularly trigger happy woman, “I can try run their faces through facial recognition and see if I get any hits.”

“Do it as soon as you can.”

JC nods dutifully. “So in the meantime, what do we do about Ava?”

Chanel clenches her jaw as she scans what’s left of the motel, her face hard and determined. “We rescue her of course.”

——

Ava whistles as she waits by the stairs facing the parking lot. From her new position she has a birds eye view of the enemies below, easy access back to the alcove, and can guard the likely entry point of the fire escape. It was the perfect spot, and even better, it was Ava who suggested it. The look on Jane Bond’s face when she realized how perfect it was, was _priceless._

 _“Pew, pew, pew…the guns go pew,”_ Ava softly sings as she keeps her eyes peeled on the action that buzzes beneath her. _“People tryna kill me makes me kinda blueee-“_

“Ava?”

She glances up from her perch and sees Beatrice sending her a rather unimpressed look. “Yeah?”

“Please stop singing.”

“You don’t like my voice?” Ava asks, more than a little hurt. “I was planning to serenade you at our first date. Shit, I guess I need to rethink things now.”

Beatrice exhales noisily, clearly trying to keep her composure. “I just want you to concentrate. And _stop_ drawing attention.”

“I can’t help it; I have star quality!” Ava whines her voice tinged with exasperation. At Beatrice’s pointed glance, she deflates with a pout. “Fine, whatever. It’s your loss.”

“Thank you.”

Ava repositions herself with a huff, crouching low and keeping her weapon drawn with the safety off, ready to jump in guns blazing the minute she has the all clear from Beatrice. Her finger itches on the trigger, and she taps her foot impatiently hoping that some action comes their way soon.

_I wonder if she really didn’t like my singing…maybe I should get lessons. Ooooh, I could learn some-_

“Ava, to the left!”

“Huh?” Ava grunts, her brows furrowed in confusion when she turns to find the hallway empty. “There’s no one there!”

“Your _other_ left!”

“I don’t have another- _OOOHHH!_ My bad!” she yells over her shoulder as she fires off two shots, neatly taking out the enemy approaching her. “Bam! Right in the kisser!”

“Bloody hell,” Beatrice mutters from across the alcove, ducking her head left and right to make sure they were secure once more.

Ava frowns. She thought that was pretty good. In fact, she thought Beatrice would be impressed by her skills. Dazzled even. But, to Ava’s eternal disappointment, the woman seems completely nonplussed by her proficiency. Well, that wouldn’t do. Anything Beatrice could do; Ava could do _better._

A flash of silver catches Ava’s eye, and she’s drawn out of her sulky musings as she squints at the sight below. “Hey Bea?” she calls out, diligently keeping an eye on the situation.

Beatrice sighs heavily. “Yes Ava?”

“Why did your friends send a crazy lady with a bazooka after us? I know they’re mad, but that seems like overkill.”

“WHAT?!” Beatrice shrieks, sliding over on her knees to Ava’s position and glancing down at the lot.

Ava points to the floor below where a maniacal looking blond was loading up a rather scary looking weapon. “See?”

Beatrice’s mouth drops open at the sight, and she frantically tugs Ava back into the alcove. “That’s Crimson!”

“Who now?” Ava asks, glancing back out with confusion.

She can tell from Beatrice’s reaction that this Crimson character is bad news. She’s never seen Jane Bond so rattled before, and Ava doesn’t like it one bit. Clearly Beatrice is afraid of this woman, which means that there is only one course of action to take.

_It’s hammer time._

Jaw set with stubborn determination, Ava stalks back to her position, quickly wedging her rifle through a hole in the wall and training it on Crimson. She’s about to fire off several shots before feeling herself roughly pulled back by her collar, and she lands on the ground with a thud.

“What the actual fuck Bea?!” she exclaims, rubbing her neck gingerly. “I was about to take her out!”

“No, we need her alive.”

“Why? She’s about to fucking blow us up!”

“I want to question her. Find out what she’s doing here.”

Ava can’t believe her ears. This Crimson person - who looks like she just escaped from the fucking Church of Satan - was literally down there with a bazooka trying to kill them, and Beatrice wants to have a nice chat.

_Why do I even bother trying to protect this woman?!_

“I know I say a lot of stupid shit, but I think you’ve just taken the whole damn cake babe.”

“Ava,” Beatrice sighs, “we need to play this smart. People are trying to kill you and we need to know why. Let’s just incapacitate her and go from there alright?”

“Fine,” Ava snaps, stomping back to her place by the stairs. Again she trains her rifle on Crimson, and before Beatrice can intervene, she fires off two shots: one into each leg. With a self-satisfied hum, she turns around to find a very unimpressed Beatrice glaring at her. “Happy?”

“Not at all.”

“Good,” Ava smiles, fake and all teeth. Moving along the balcony, she squats down behind a pillar to scan the parking lot again, and she perks up at the sight of new arrivals. “Oh hey! I see Chanel!” she exclaims, popping up from her spot to wave frantically at her friend, a beaming grin on her face.

In seconds Beatrice is by Ava’s side, yanking her fiercely to the ground. “Get down!”

“What? She’s not gonna shoot me. Oh and look over there!” Ava says in excitement as she jumps up from behind the pillar once more. “It’s the nice girl with the cookies!”

“Ava,” Beatrice grits out as she yanks her to the ground again, “I swear to God I will shoot you myself!”

At that moment, another woman clad all in black bursts out of the first escape, and Ava quickly presses the trigger. Her gun clicks, and Ava’s heart drops as she belatedly realizes that she’s out of rounds. Luckily Beatrice is on top of it, and a knife goes whizzing past, slicing the intruder cleanly through the throat.

_Damn that’s hot._

“Speaking of shooting people,” Ava says as she turns to Beatrice with her most charming smile, “I need your gun. I’m all out of bullets and I think this trigger has gone funky. It’s been sticking for the last little while,” she explains, tugging at the jammed piece of metal for emphasis.

“What am I supposed to use?” Beatrice asks her incredulously as she cradles her rifle closer to her chest.

“I dunno,” Ava shrugs, wholly unconcerned with Beatrice’s plight. “Weren't you the top of your Siri class? You should be able to think of something.”

“It’s _SERE,_ and I could. But it’s the principle of the matter,” Beatrice replies haughtily, her eyes keenly watching the scenes unfolding below.

Ava, meanwhile, is keenly watching Beatrice’s rifle. “What is?”

“That you can’t just take someone’s weapon because yours doesn’t work! It’s not polite.”

Bullets whizz past them, embedding into the concrete behind their heads, and Ava has had about enough of Beatrice’s stalling. She _needs_ the damn rifle. She can’t protect them with her bare hands dammit!

“Well I don’t know if you’ve heard, but chivalry is dead sweetheart.”

Beatrice looks over at her with a beleaguered huff. “If this is your version of sweeping me off my feet, you are doing a terrible job,” she grumbles as she reluctantly hands over her prized rifle.

Ava takes it eagerly, immediately training it on the parking lot below. “Relax babe. I haven’t even started.”

——

As Camila finishes loading her favourite crossbow, she glances up at the mayhem surrounding them. A wail of pain had caught her attention, and it had sounded so familiar that it sent chills down her spine. On a hunch she whips out her binoculars, and after a few moments her mouth drops open as she confirms her worst suspicions.

“Mary wait,” she calls out, halting her team leader’s charge towards the motel.

“What?”

“I think,” Camila pauses as she checks the binoculars again, “I think I see Crimson. And other squads from the OCS.”

“What? Gimme those,” Mary says, hip checking her out of the way as she snatches the glasses from the younger girl.

“She’s right,” Lilith says, frowning as she squints off into the distance. “Those are definitely OCS trained squads. What are they doing here?”

“Shit,” Mary hands back the binoculars, her mouth agape at the new discovery. “What if they are in on this with Beatrice?”

Camila’s heart drops at her team leader’s suggestion. She had hoped, against all evidence to the contrary, that Beatrice truly wasn’t trying to harm them. But if she had allied with one of the most ruthless members of the OCS…then that wasn’t good news at all. Perhaps she didn’t know Beatrice as well as she thought she did.

But she chose to believe. Beatrice may be on the wrong side of things, but she wasn’t pure evil. She was sure of it.

“I’ve never trusted Crimson,” Camila starts carefully, “and I know that currently we can’t trust Beatrice. But…I don’t know if I could ever see them forming a partnership. They can’t stand each other.”

“Agreed,” Lilith nods thoughtfully. “Although we can’t discount any possibility at this point.”

Mary exhales heavily, her jaw clenched in anger. “You all realize what this means right? No matter if they are in on this together or not, this isn’t just about one bad agent anymore. The OCS is rotten to the fucking core.”

Lilith shakes her head sadly. “What a mess.”

“That includes _you_ Lilith!”

“Fuck you Mary!”

“Both of you, stop!” Camila pleads. “Can we please just focus on Ava? We can worry about everything else later.”

“Yeah, I can do that,” Mary agrees tersely. “We gotta work together to get Ava away from this mess safely. That’s the priority.”

Lilith smirks as she twirls her favourite baton. “So you’re saying you trust me?”

Mary rolls her eyes. “I’m sayin’ I trust you _slightly_ more than I trust Crimson and the woman who just gassed us.”

“Low bar, but I suppose I’ll take it.

Camila breathes a sigh of relief. As long as the two women in front of her can put aside their differences and focus on their common goal - Ava’s safe retrieval - then they may have a shot at getting out of the mess that Beatrice has put them in alive.

She can worry about her own plans later.

“I’m in,” Camila chirps with forced cheerfulness.

“Great,” Mary replies as she readies her shotguns. “Let’s do this!”

——

“You wanna know something?” Ava asks as she reloads her rifle calmly and efficiently.

Beatrice watches her in a sense of wonder, impressed with how quickly the woman had mastered the rifle, especially under such stressful conditions. Her aim was incredible, even her shots at moving targets.

_Prodigious talent indeed._

“I’m sure you’ll tell me regardless,” Beatrice replies wryly as she shifts in her position by the stairs.

“I miss the days of riding into battle, a sword strapped to your back ya know?” Ava muses as she fires off a few more rounds, looking entirely too comfortable in her new role. “It was just so noble. Like _‘Here I am on my grand steed, stare up at me as I cut you down!’_ sort of thing.”

Beatrice nods absently as a familiar pattern catches her eye. Craning her neck she sees her old teammates taking the V formation, and she knows in that moment that they are done. Soon they will take out all the other OCS agents (she had noticed the gunfire had lessened considerably since Ava had first clocked Camila at the scene), and once her old squad turned their attentions to them…it would be hard to escape.

They had to get out _now._ While they still had a chance, and her team were suitably distracted.

“You know, I’d even settle for a crossbow,” Ava happily babbles on as a bullet zips by her, completely unphased as it lands inches from her temple. “I’d make a kickass Robin Hood right?”

“Ava-“

“Although, I don’t think he had a crossbow. I think he was more of a traditional bow and arrow type which is _way_ cooler, but-“

“AVA!”

“What?” Ava frowns clearly put out by the interruption.

Beatrice takes a calming breath before looking into Ava’s eyes, hoping to convey the seriousness of the situation. “If, for whatever reason, we get separated-“

“Why wou-“

“Just listen!”

“Ooook.”

“If we get separated, I want you to meet me Antequera,” Beatrice says, speaking slowly and hoping that Ava will at least remember the town. “There’s a chapel - the Portichuelo Chapel - which is safe and secure. When you get there, go around to the back door. Knock once, then wait eight seconds, then twice in quick succession. I wi-“

“Wait. Is this a quick eight seconds, or like a one-Mississippi situation?”

Beatrice furrows her brows in confusion. “A second is a second.”

“Except it’s not,” Ava replies, wagging her finger with a smile. “In Friends, Ross wen-“

No. They did _not_ have time for this.

“Ava!” Beatrice grits out. “Please focus.”

“Right, sorry. Go on.”

“I will ask you, ‘Where is the Lion sleeping?’”

“Easy!” Ava exclaims, her eyes sparkling with delight. “In the jungle, the mightyyy jungle!”

Beatrice rubs her forehead, trying to ward off her impending migraine. “No. You will say, ‘the lying puppy has escaped the zoo.’ Understood?”

Ava deflates at her answer. “That makes no sense, but sure,” she says sadly. “We’ll go with yours. But next time I get to make up the answers.”

“Fine,” Beatrice shakes her head, completely done with the conversation. As long as Ava can remember at least half of those instructions, she will be suitably impressed.

“Sooo…fun fact,” Ava starts, grinning at her sheepishly. “I’m outta ammo.”

Beatrice sighs heavily. “Well then, I guess it’s time for us to make that strategic retreat.”

Ava slings the gun behind her back, and together they traipse down the fire escape stairs, taking them all the way to the ground floor. Sharing a quick look, they both hesitantly push open the heavy steel door and peer out of the staff exit. Seeing no one, Ava starts making nonsensical hand signals at Beatrice, who in turn sends her own _proper_ signals back. Ava does not seem pleased with Beatrice’s input, and she scrunches up her face in frustration as she gestures more forcefully.

Beatrice briefly considers humoring Ava and her laughable attempts at signaling, but they were wasting precious time. When she hears rapidly approaching footsteps behind them, Beatrice reaches out for Ava’s hand, dragging her into the bright sunshine and across the lot as fast as she can towards an empty van that is conveniently parked with its doors wide open. An OCS squad member attempts to stop them when they are mere steps away from their getaway vehicle and Beatrice throws a knife at her, hitting the woman squarely in the eye.

“Damn Bea, you are _really_ good a-“

“Hold it right there.”

The blood in Beatrice’s veins turns to ice at the familiar voice, and she halts in her tracks instantly. She knows that Lilith won’t hesitate to blow her head off if she makes a wrong move. She needs to play this smart.

More importantly, she needs to protect Ava.

Slowly Beatrice turns around, Ava’s hand still grasped firmly in her own. “Hello Lilith.”

“Beatrice,” Lilith sneers, cocking her gun as Mary and Camila come up to flank her, guns drawn. “Surprised to see us?”

“No. Camila is very good at her job,” Beatrice smiles at the younger girl, not at all surprised when she gets a cold look back.

Ava twitches at her side, and Beatrice gives her hand a reassuring squeeze. She notices that Camila tracks the movement curiously, and instinctively Beatrice drops Ava’s hand, choosing to tug the younger woman behind her instead.

Predictably, Ava resists the re-positioning, but Beatrice holds firm. She would physically shield Ava from her teammates, whether Ava liked it or not.

“Give us Ava and nobody has to get hurt,” Mary says, her voice as hard as steel.

Three guns still remain firmly pointed at Beatrice, and the agent can tell that Ava is just itching to lash out at her teammates if her incessant grumbling is anything to go by. As a precaution, she draws herself up taller, more effectively blocking Ava from her teammates and sandwiching her between Beatrice and the van. Letting Ava loose on the squad would be the absolute _last_ thing this powder keg of a situation needs.

“The game is up,” Lilith sneers, her eyes flicking up and down at the fallen agent in disgust. “Hand her over.”

Beatrice scoffs loudly. “You really think I would hand her over to a traitor like you?”

“Me? A traitor? That’s rich coming from you!” Lilith shoots back, holstering her gun as she attempts to shove Beatrice away from Ava.

Beatrice holds firm, shoving Lilith back with a vengeance. “You’re the one that changed the pick-up date!”

“She’s right,” Camila interjects with a nod as she lowers her gun. “You _did_ do that Lilith.”

Lilith huffs, her jaw ticking minutely. Her gaze swings to the left, and her eyes light up as she finds her next target. “Well, Mary accessed top secret information and won’t say how!”

“She’s also right,” Camila agrees, sending Mary a critical look.

“Yeah well, Beatrice gassed her own team and took off with Ava!” Mary bites back, glaring at the agent in question but lowering her shotgun all the same.

Camila hums. “Also correct.”

“So what do we do?” Lilith asks, the four of them exchanging looks as they find themselves in a familiar situation yet again. “Shoot it out and hope for the best?”

Beatrice hears a sound of protest behind her, which she pointedly ignores. She’s sure Ava has a million things to say about the situation, but now is _not_ the time for the mouthy little firecracker to get involved.

“I think the best course of action is to let me take Ava in,” Camila suggests matter-of-factly to a chorus of groans. “The three of you need to be individually assessed by Superion. I’m sorry to be so blunt, but the fact is that currently none of you can be trusted with Ava.”

“Now hang on!“

“Absolutely not!“

“That ain’t happenin’ on my watch!”

Camila flaps her arms wildly as she attempts to shush them. “It’s just temporary. Once you’ve all proven yourselves - which I’m sure you will - then Superion will put you back on the assignment. I truly believe you all have very good reasons for doing what you did,” she adds sweetly.

“I know you mean well,” Beatrice says in her most conciliatory voice, “but I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”

“And neither can I,” Lilith adds, her voice infinitely more threatening.

Camila, to Beatrice’s surprise, refuses to buckle under the pressure. “Well that’s too bad. Because that’s what I’m doing.”

Beatrice and Lilith both start protesting loudly, practically elbowing each other out of the way to get closer to Camila to plead their case. The young squad member is having none of it, raising her voice right back, and the parking lot becomes a cacophony of sound as the women clash fiercely.

Eventually, one voice manages to raise about the din.

“Everyone shut up!” Mary yells, her eyes wide and frantic. Her head swivels back and forth, and she starts to pace, growing more anxious by the second.

“What?” Lilith finally asks. “What is it?”

“WHERE THE FUCK IS AVA?!”

——

“Hello Ava.”

Ava huffs out a cynical laugh as a black bag is pulled off her head, and she squints at the sudden brightness as a figure emerges from the shadows. “Of course,” she remarks wryly with a slight head shake. “Why am I not surprised.”

“It’s nice to see you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> If you have questions/requests/wanna say hi you can find me on Twitter @MementoVivere22 or Tumblr @ memento-vivere-20


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh...here we go again eh? This chapter kinda got a little (a lot) out of hand...I've realized that I just don't know when to shut up. Maybe that's why I relate so much to Ava? Much to think about. Anyway, apologies if this chapter seems clunky, I was given a giant bottle of rum and apparently restraint is not something I possess.
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you all enjoy the last few days of this dumpster fire year :)

Some days Lilith really loved her job. The exhilaration of a successful mission, the high of saving lives while putting bad guys away. Her job meant something, and she enjoyed almost every minute of it.

Except for today. In fact, make that the past few days. The Ava Silva case is the single most frustrating, annoying mission that she has ever been tasked with and Lilith swears that her hair is turning grey from the stress alone. They’ve just botched yet another attempt at retrieving the woman, and now it’s time to make a call…one she really doesn’t want to make. _Again._

With a sigh, Lilith dials the frequently used number and presses the phone to her ear. It barely rings once before a familiar voice is answering brusquely.

“Duretti.”

“It’s Lilith.”

“Where have you been?!” the head of the OCS barks impatiently.

“There has been some,” Lilith pauses, trying to find the best way to deliver the news, “developments.”

“Failures you mean.”

Lilith inhales sharply at his blunt assessment. Duretti wasn’t wrong per se, but it also wasn’t her fault. In fact, things would have gone perfectly this time around if Crimson and her motley crew of rejects hadn’t been there to mess everything up.

No, she wasn’t taking the fall for this. If anyone was going down, it was Crimson.

“We ran into other teams from the OCS at the motel,” she starts, ready to throw her nemesis under the bus, “I hate to say it, but I think we may have some rogue factio-“

Duretti, it seems, is not at all interested in hearing about his top agent’s discovery. “Lilith, I’m a very busy man,” he interrupts her rudely, his voice harsh and biting. “Where is Ava?”

Lilith frowns at the brush off but swallows her surprise and answers her boss dutifully. “Well, that’s the thing. We…well we…” she trails off, unsure how to break this particular part of the news.

“What? Spit it out Lilith!”

Lilith glances up at the sky, wondering if God still listened to her prayers anymore. She imagines not, otherwise she wouldn’t be in this bloody position to begin with.

“We have lost Ava,” she reluctantly informs her boss, instinctively bracing for the absolute bollocking she was sure to receive.

“AGAIN?!”

“I’m sorry-”

“Find her. _NOW!”_

“Of course Si-“

The line clicked and Lilith glares at her phone in irritation. She knew Duretti was mad, but it’s hardly _her_ fault that her team is incompetent. And it is certainly not her fault that there are rogue elements at the OCS that seem determined to thwart her mission. If Duretti would just listen, he would see that the deck had been stacked against her from the start.

The more Lilith thinks about things, the more questionable her mission becomes. She has a bad feeling, deep down in the pit of her stomach, but she repeatedly bats it away. If Lilith wants her rightful position of team leader, then she needs to focus on the goal - finding Ava and delivering her to Duretti. Whatever is going on with her team and the rest of the OCS is not her concern.

But as she strolls back to the group, a little voice whispers insistently in her ear:

_What if you’re wrong?_

——

“Search her.”

Beatrice whirls around to face Mary, her eyes round with shock. “I beg your pardon?” she exclaims indignantly.

“You really expect us to believe you didn’t have anything to do with Ava’s little disappearing act?” Mary asks, a scowl etched on her face. “I know you Beatrice. Backup plans for backup plans. You knew you were gonna get caught, so you had an out.”

Beatrice gapes at her team leader. While that assessment was usually accurate, she and Ava had been completely caught off guard by the motel showdown. Besides, even if she did have an exit strategy, it certainly wouldn’t entail leaving herself at the mercy of her incredibly pissed off teammates. Did Mary really think so little of her critical thinking skills?

“That is preposterous!” she replies defensively. “I’m just as surprised as you! Besides, if I _had_ planned this, do you really think I would plan to be caught? How stupid do you think I am?”

“You really want me to answer that?”

Beatrice exhales heavily, her hands balling into fists as she attempts to control her rising frustration. “You think I _wanted_ to lose her?”

“We’re saying that you _haven’t_ lost her,” Lilith interjects calmly. “You clearly arranged for her to be relocated elsewhere while we were distracted.”

“How?” she asks incredulously, her mouth agape like a goldfish plucked from its bowl. “I’ve been here the whole time! I was distracted too!”

“Obviously y-“

“I think she’s telling the truth,” Camila says softly, her eyes firmly on Beatrice. “This wasn’t planned.”

Beatrice tilts her head curiously at her younger teammate, surprised to see a genuine look of understanding reflecting in her eyes. Gone was the animosity and distrust from before, and in its place was the same sweet Camila that Beatrice had always known. It was both comforting and a little unsettling.

“And how do you know that? Oh, let me guess; you believe in her,” Lilith says sarcastically.

“Yes,” Camila replies simply, “I do.”

Beatrice sends her a smile of gratitude. She doesn’t know what prompted the turnaround, but she certainly wasn’t going to look this gift horse in the mouth.

Mary rolls her eyes but ultimately decides to back off. “Whatever. Beatrice aside, we need a new plan. We gotta get Ava back.”

“I think we should st-“

“You ain’t included in this plan Beatrice,” Mary snaps. “I think you’ve done enough damage.”

“Look,” Beatrice says in her most calming tone, “whatever disciplinary action you want to take against me I will happily accept. But please, can we delay it until _after_ we find Ava? Our best chance of helping her is to work together.”

Mary shakes her head stubbornly. “Why should we trust you?”

“Why should I trust _you?”_ Beatrice fires back instantly. “Lilith still hasn’t explained why she interfered with the pickup date, _and_ she just disappeared to make a call w-“

“That’s right!” Mary cuts Beatrice off as she rounds on their other teammate. “Who _were_ you calling Lilith?”

“I just called headquarters to check in!”

“Bullshit!”

“You still haven’t accounted for your actions either!” Lilith accuses as she vehemently points her finger at their team leader. “Explain that!”

“Well I-“

“Everybody please!” Camila jumps in, uncharacteristically raising her voice. “You _all_ have baggage!” She turns to Lilith and Mary, giving them both a hard stare. “When we needed to work together to find Ava, I chose to overlook your behaviour for the greater good. You need to do that now with Beatrice. Despite certain people engaging in…unsavoury behaviours, we still work best when we work as a team. If I can forgive all of you, then you should be able to do the same.”

“Fair point,” Mary admits begrudgingly, “all things considered.”

“I suppose we can do that,” Lilith agrees. “For the mission.”

“Ava’s safety is all that matters. I’m in,” Beatrice folds her hands behind her back, straightening her shoulders resolutely.

Camila nods happily. “Good. Now, what’s the plan?”

“Well,” Beatrice glances at her team hesitantly, relaxing once Mary gives her tacit approval to continue, “I think the important question we should be asking is why those OCS squads were even here, and why they were trying to harm Ava. Our objective was to protect her, and that certainly was not Crimson’s.”

Lilith frowns and tilts her head, assessing Beatrice shrewdly. “So they weren’t with you?”

“Absolutely not!” she replies, noting that Lilith’s frown only deepens with her response. “They were trying to kill Ava! We were lucky to escape with our lives.”

“You’re welcome for that by the way,” Mary says dryly.

Camila squats down on the ground, holding her head as if willing herself to solve the puzzle. “I don’t understand…we were told to protect Ava. Why was our own organization trying to kill her?”

That was an excellent question, and one Beatrice had been mulling over ever since Ava had pointed out Crimson’s arrival. Something wasn’t right in the OCS, and it had started ever since they received faulty intel on the Silva file. Now headquarters have sent multiple squads after Ava, and so far they’ve had two very different objectives…it was almost like there was someone sabotaging the OCS from the inside, and Ava was simply a pawn in their little game.

Well, Beatrice won’t stand for it. Whatever is going on at headquarters, she’s going to find out and put a stop to it. She swore an oath to protect humanity to the best of her ability, and that’s exactly what she plans to do.

Mary blows out a heavy breath. “So do we think they acted alone?”

“We could just ask her,” Beatrice replies, her eyes sliding over to the motel.

“Who? Crimson?”

Beatrice nods. “Ava shot her in the legs,” she reports with a satisfied smirk. “She’s probably still bleating on the balcony somewhere.”

Mary chuckles, shaking her head in amusement. “I think the kid is starting to grow on me.”

“Yes,” Beatrice agrees as she feels that telltale heat in her cheeks, “she has that effect.”

With a hum of disapproval Lilith clicks the safety off her gun and strides towards the hotel, gesturing the others to follow. “Come on. Hopefully the Spawn of Satan can tell us why our own agency has given us two very different directives.”

——

Depressing.

That’s the only way Ava can describe the room she’s currently being held in. It was a windowless, drab looking hell hole, and the only exciting thing about it was Ava herself. She didn’t mean to brag or anything, but clearly she was kind of a big deal. Afterall, how many times had she been kidnapped now?

_Speaking of…_

“You know, I’m getting real tired of people holding me against my will,” Ava complains loudly as she slouches in her chair with a frown. “The orphanage, the weird not-nuns, and now _you._ I’m a person ya know,” she adds, crossing her arms petulantly.

“I am aware.”

Ava narrows her eyes, getting the distinct impression that her complaint was falling on deaf ears. Still, she wasn’t going to let that deter her. Oooooh no.

“Great,” she snaps, sitting back up in her chair. “So, we agree then. Let. Me. Go.”

Her captor smiles soothingly, arms spread in a conciliatory gesture and it makes Ava absolutely seethe. “I just want to talk.”

_Seriously? SERIOUSLY?!_

“So pick up the damn phone!” Ava exclaims, throwing up her hands in frustration.

“Would you have answered?”

“If I had Caller I.D? Probably not.”

“Well, there’s your answer then.”

Ava narrows her eyes at the person sitting opposite her, not at all impressed by their smug attitude. “Look-

“Beatrice.”

Ava feels her heart drop through the floor at the mere mention of Jane Bond. It was one thing for her to be caught up in this situation, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to let Beatrice be dragged into it too.

Ava shifts in her seat and subtly rearranges her features into an impassive mask. “I don’t know a Beatrice.”

“Really?”

Ava shrugs, careful to keep her face neutral. “Unless you mean the Shakespeare one. But honestly, I never understood a word she said,” she replies flippantly.

“Ava...it is in your best interests to work with me here. And if not for your own benefit, then think of Beatrice.”

_Don’t react, don’t react, don’t react…_

“Leave her out of this!” Ava snarls, lunging forward in her chair. She clenches her teeth, immediately recognizing her error, and she wills herself to calm the fuck down.

“Well that depends on you now, doesn’t it?”

As Ava sits there fuming an idea strikes her, one that she _knows_ Beatrice would hate. It’s that very fact which assures Ava that she’s just concocted a brilliant plan.

Abruptly Ava lunges forward towards her abductor, her arms flailing in unbridled aggression as she haphazardly grasps at whatever part of them she can lay her hands on. Her opponent startles, caught off guard by the young woman’s behaviour but they quickly recover, wrapping their arms firmly around Ava and depositing her back in her chair with a _thunk._

Ava grits her teeth, valiantly holding back a wince as the force of her landing drives a newly pickpocketed device painfully into her thigh. Still, no pain, no gain.

“Now that you’ve had your little temper tantrum, can we try this again?”

Ava slumps back in her chair, eyes lowered in defeat. With a pout she gestures listlessly for her captor to continue, “I’m listening.”

_Nicely done kid. Even if I do say so myself._

——

As it turns out, Crimson was not in a particularly chatty mood. Thanks to Ava’s recklessness, the squad leader had lost far too much blood, and as a result was now passed out on the balcony. Beatrice and the team briefly considered leaving her there (after all, Crimson’s own squad had), but Camila appealed to their better selves and insisted they at least call an OCS medic before deserting one of their own.

Mary did so begrudgingly, but not before loudly insisting that Lady Karma owed her big time, and that she expected to be paid back with interest. Beatrice had silently agreed.

As Beatrice watches Mary and Lilith quietly bicker at Crimson’s side, she realizes that if she wants answers from Camila, now is the time to start asking her questions. Her curiosity has been building ever since the young squad member had jumped to her defense, and while at the time she appreciated the solidarity, Beatrice can’t help but wonder what exactly had prompted Camila’s change of heart.

Pulling Camila behind the SUV, Beatrice motions for her to huddle in close and sends her an uncertain smile. “Thank you for defending me earlier.”

“You’re welcome,” Camila replies brightly.

Beatrice toes the ground nervously, her face the picture of guilt. “May I ask why? As pointed out numerous times, I did gas you.”

Camila hums thoughtfully as she leans against the car. “Yes you did. But…you looked petrified the moment you realized Ava was missing. No one could fake being that scared, and no one would be that scared unless they cared about someone.”

Beatrice goes still, her heart faltering in her chest. Were her affections that obvious? Did the others know? Could they use this information against her? Against Ava?

“I saw the way you clung to each other in that parking lot,” Camila continues, oblivious to her teammate’s inner turmoil. “She trusted you to keep her safe. And if Ava trusted you, well…then I trust you too.”

Beatrice feels her face burn at her teammate’s words, and she swallows back the lump of emotion that rises in her throat. “Thank you Camila,” she replies, her voice uncharacteristically shaky.

Camila nods and gives her a kind smile, her eyes full of gentle understanding. “There is something else we need to discuss though.”

“Which is?”

“We can’t trust _them,”_ Camila replies, pointing to the balcony.

“Lilith and Mary? I know,” Beatrice sighs. “But if we want to save Ava, we have no choice but to work with them.”

Camila shakes her head vehemently. “No, we don’t. I’m the best at tracking, and you are the deadliest agent in the OCS. I’ve seen you take on ten armed guards by yourself, and you walked away without so much as a scratch.”

_Well, she’s not wrong._

Beatrice leans in closer to Camila, attempting to make their conversation more private. “What exactly are you proposing?”

Camila shrugs. “Maybe we should go our own way? When the right time comes of course.”

It was an intriguing proposal. Camila was right; there was nobody who was better at tracking than her. If Mary and Lilith lost Camila, they would be set back days in their search for Ava. Meanwhile, if Beatrice had Camila on her side she could have Ava back within a day most likely. And Beatrice knew without a doubt she could easily protect both Ava and Camila should it come to that.

Yes, this was an easy decision to make. She knew she could trust Camila, and clearly the trust went both ways.

“I just want Ava to be safe,” Beatrice finally replies.

“Me too.”

“Good,” she smiles, her heart already feeling ten times lighter. “Let’s do this. We find Ava together, no double crossing.”

“And no grenades,” Camila says, her eyes twinkling in amusement.

Beatrice huffs out a laugh. “Deal.”

“Deal.”

——

_The rain pours down outside, lashing her bedroom window with a ferocity that Ava feels deep within herself. Flopping around on her bed, Ava’s thoughts are hot and angry as she replays the fight with her uncle over and over. She frowns as she stares at the framed photo by her bedside, wondering if things would feel better if she just smashed it to smithereens._

_“Ava?” Her mother’s voice filters through the heavy wooden door. “Sweetheart, can I come in?”_

_With a heavy sigh, Ava rolls onto her back and stares up at the glow in the dark stars that decorate her ceiling. “Sure. I guess.”_

_Tentatively Ava’s mother enters her bedroom, the door closing softly behind her. “Tough day?”_

_“The worst.”_

_Her mother chuckles, her eyes crinkling with amusement. “Tell me about it.”_

_Ava sits up and shuffles over to the side of the bed, waiting for her mother to come join her. The bed dips beside her and Ava happily welcomes her guest, snuggling up to her favourite person in the world._

_“It’s Uncle. He always underestimates me,” Ava whines, resting her head against her mother’s shoulders._

_“Oh darling,” her mother sighs as she wraps her arms around her daughter, “I wish I could say it won’t happen again, but you will find that you will often be underestimated.”_

_“Well that sucks.”_

_Her mother hums as she gently cards her fingers through Ava’s hair. “I never said that was a bad thing. Embrace it. People will feel as though they can disregard you, but in doing so they miss what is happening right underneath their noses.”_

_Ava’s eyes light up, and she pulls back from her mother’s embrace. “Like a magic trick!”_

_Her mother nods, her lips quirking up in amusement. “It is useful to be underestimated. But, you must always remember to never underestimate yourself.”_

_Ava nods solemnly, taking her mother’s words to heart. “I won’t. I promise.”_

_“That’s my girl.”_

Ava’s eyes fly open, and she chokes back a sob, her face wet with tears. It’s been days since she last dreamt of her mother, and weeks since she had last thought of _that_ day…but now it’s simmering in her consciousness once again, and pokes at the festering wound that refuses to heal.

She sits up from the cot bed slowly, curling herself into a ball as she attempts some form of self-comfort. Ava wishes her mother were here. She would know what to do. She _always_ knew what to do. Unlike Ava who was…how did Beatrice put it? Thoughtless and reckless. Yeah, that about summed her up.

_Beatrice._

She wonders what Jane Bond is up to right now. Probably worried out of her mind and blaming herself for Ava getting captured. Well, it _was_ kinda her fault. Ava did try to warn her, but Beatrice was too busy fighting with her teammates to notice.

Still, she wasn’t going to waste time pointing fingers now. If Ava was being completely honest with herself, she was slightly more concerned about Beatrice’s safety than her own. While she has no idea what’s going on with Jane Bond currently, Ava can only surmise that she may not be having the time of her life. Even the sweet cookie lady seemed pretty peeved about the whole grenade incident…which was fair, but also Ava had started to see Beatrice’s point. They were all acting kinda shady. Perhaps Beatrice had gone a _little_ overboard with gassing them, but Ava appreciated the theatre of it all.

But now, Beatrice is probably paying for her actions big time. She had turned on her teammates for Ava, so that she could keep her safe. The very least Ava could do is to try to help her in return. Which means, she needs to find a way out of here. Pronto.

And, as she peeks out of her door into the unguarded hallway, her mother’s words echo in her head once more.

_It is useful to be underestimated._

Yes mother, yes it was.

——

The morning sun is slowly rising in the sky as the OCS medic whisks Crimson off and away into the distance. Beatrice can’t really say she’s sad to see the woman go, and she certainly won’t be sending a get well card any time soon.

The only thing - the only person - she cares about right now is Ava. She has to find the woman before it’s too late. At least she now as a plan; she and Camila will strike out on their own to find Ava the minute they can replenish their supplies. Beatrice is certain that together they can find the missing woman and keep her safe.

As the team start to load up the SUV for their departure, Beatrice glances over at Camila who is busy tapping away at her tablet. She wonders what her partner in crime could possibly be working on in the middle of a parking lot, but then she remembers it’s Camila. She’s probably hacking into traffic cameras for the hell of it.

Suddenly, Beatrice finds herself rudely drawn from her musings as she’s slammed face first into the SUV. “Hey!” she yelps in outrage as Mary roughly yanks both of her arms behind her back. “What are you doing?!”

“It’s called being proactive,” the team leader grunts as she whips out a thick rope and starts binding Beatrice’s wrists.

Camila rushes over, practically radiating with excitement. “Ok, I think I fo-,” she glances up at her teammates, her mouth dropping in shock. “Why are you tying up Beatrice?!”

“Apparently she’s being proactive,” Beatrice replies dryly as she subtly tests the knots.

_Rock solid. Damn it._

“Proactive about what?”

“She betrayed us once, what’s to stop her doing it again once we find Ava?”

_Well, that’s fair._

“But we haven’t found Ava yet,” Camila points out as she watches on in distress.

“Yeah well,” Mary replies churlishly, “she doesn’t need her hands to sit in a backseat.”

Camila huffs, but doesn't push the issue further. Beatrice sends her a smile, appreciating the effort all the same. It was unfortunate, but ultimately it didn’t change their plans in the slightest. If anything, it just made Beatrice _more_ determined to ditch Mary and Lilith at the first opportunity.

“Where are we going anyway?” she casually asks as Mary shoves her into the backseat and slams the door behind her.

Mary slides behind the wheel and waits for Lilith and Camila to buckle in. “The safe house,” she eventually replies. “I figure we can strategize from there and restock. I’m fresh outta ammo.”

“That’s a good idea. I need to charge up my devices,” Camila chimes in as she waves her tablet around. “Even my portable chargers are on their last legs.”

“Ok, so it’s settled then. We will go to Antequera and plan from there.”

——

The lights flicker eerily as Ava creeps down the deserted hallway, her shoes squeaking loudly against the linoleum floor in the otherwise quiet building. Ava keeps her eyes out for any sign of life, but she spots nothing but a stray spider happily creating it’s web underneath a spiral staircase. She doesn’t know if it’s a testimony to her captor’s arrogance, or simply incompetence on their part.

The guard’s station looms up ahead and Ava makes sure to stick to the shadows, ducking behind pillars and into crevices whenever possible. If she squints she can make out the figures of at least two guards, maybe three, and she pauses to consider her exit strategy.

_Downside: you’re outnumbered. Upside: they’re not gonna shoot you. You got nothin’ to lose kid._

With a heavy exhale, Ava quickly ties up her hair, readying herself for battle. She shakes out her hands and feet, jumping around like a boxer about to enter the ring, and closes her eyes as she attempts to enter the zone.

_Ok Silva. This is it. Just do your thing._

Digging into her pocket she finds a stray coin and flicks it down the hallway, watching with delight as it makes the predictable clanging against the steel doors. It only takes a few seconds before a burly man flings open a door and emerges from the guard’s station, his brow furrowing as he glances left and right.

_Show time!_

Ava steps out from where she was hiding, a beaming grin on her face. “Hey, how you doin’?”

The guard stares at her with slack jawed confusion, and Ava takes the opportunity to charge straight at him, throwing all of her strength at the man as she pounces viciously. The man tries to defend himself, but Ava already has the upper hand. She maneuvers him into a headlock, squeezing firmly until the man falls to his knees unconscious.

_That’s one down._

“Stop!”

Ava waggles her eyebrows as she turns around to find another guard reaching for his gun. “Collaborate and listen!” she chirps, kicking the man squarely in the chest and causing him to stumble backwards. She lunges forward and grabs his gun, pistol whipping him with glee. “God that’s fun,” she says, watching as the man slips into unconsciousness.

Out the corner of her eye, Ava sees a young man hovering by the station, his eyes shifting nervously between her and his unconscious coworkers. She smirks cockily. “You want some?”

“P-please don’t shoot me,” he begs, his eyes wide with fear. “I-it’s my f-first day.”

Ava nods, tapping the gun against her chin thoughtfully. “I get that. First days can be rough. My first day of school, somebody stole my lunchbox.”

The guard blinks in confusion. “Y-yeah…that sounds rough.”

“Honestly, probably one of the worst days of my life. I was really looking forward to that sandwich. It was roast chicken!”

“R-right.”

“Anyways, I gotta jet sooooo…I’m just gonna knock you out ok?”

“Oh…ok.”

“Cool,” Ava smiles as she strolls up to the young man. “Relax, I’ll make it quick.”

The guard gulps and squeezes his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable hit. Ava appreciates his cooperation and as a reward gives him a whack on the side of the head. She figures it won’t leave much of a mark, though he may have a killer headache for a day or two.

All in all, a decent trade off as far as she’s concerned.

Slipping the gun into the waistband of her jeans, Ava surveys her handiwork with a sense of smug satisfaction. Nodding happily, she skips over to the security camera with a beaming smile on her face. “Boom!” she mimes dropping a microphone and waving at the device. “Ava out!”

She was kinda in a rush, so for once Ava wisely decides to keep her gloating to a minimum. With one last cheerful wave to the camera she flees the scene, her legs pounding against the pavement as she tries to put as much distance between herself and the building as possible. It was already daylight, and the morning sun was blinding as it beat down on her. She wants to stop, to take off her leather jacket as the heat becomes too much, but she knows she doesn’t have the time. She’s sweaty and gross, but at least she’s free.

For now at least.

It’s not until almost twenty minutes later, once she’s well clear of the building, that Ava comes to a stop behind a bus shelter. Brimming with excitement she reaches into her jean pocket and pulls out the pickpocketed cell phone. “Time to play,” she smirks as she navigates the device expertly, her fingers flying across the screen with a well-practiced ease. A few moments later she finds exactly what she’s looking for and she fist pumps the air triumphantly.

_Gotchya._

——

“Hey, it’s Mary.”

A man in a well pressed suit smiles into the phone. “Mary! Where are you?”

“In Antequera.”

He frowns in confusion and leans against a nearby desk. “Why?”

“I don’t have time to get into it. Lilith is waiting on me for a perimeter check.”

“Fair enough. How did things go at the motel?”

“Not great. We…uh…we kinda lost Ava.”

He closes his eyes, willing himself to stay calm. Getting mad at the agent would not help the situation. “Again?” he asks, his voice as smooth as honey.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get her back.”

“I know you will,” he assures her, hoping that his belief in the agent will eventually pay off. “You’ve always been the best of them Mary. Shannon would be proud.”

“I’ll keep in touch.”

The line clicks abruptly, and the man sighs as he takes a long sip of from his whiskey tumbler. He knows that his employer will not take this news well, but unfortunately he can’t very well hide it forever. He can feel a pair of sharp eyes watching him, assessing his every move, and he knows the time for honesty is now.

“They’ve lost the girl,” he announces, his eyes focused straight ahead on the skyline that stretches out before him.

“How does this keep happening?!”

_Excellent question._

“They will find her,” he replies instead, “I am sure of it.”

“I am growing weary of their incompetence. The clock is ticking Vincent.”

Vincent nods as he drains the last of his drink. “Understood.”

——

Beatrice closes her eyes as the soothing sound of Billie Eilish filters through the car radio. She tries to relax into the seat but the rope around her wrists chafes painfully, reminding her that she is very much a prisoner in her own squad car. Glancing out the window she notices that Mary and Lilith are still circling around the church across the street, doing their last minute checks as they secure the perimeter. As always, the two women seem to be bickering, and Beatrice can’t help but wonder whether it’s just a habit at this point.

Craning her neck out the window, Beatrice sees that Camila has opted to toddle off down the street to the corner store, likely in the hopes of procuring them some snacks. She hopes that her teammate remembers to pick her up something moderately healthy. If history is anything to go by, she won’t get her hopes up.

The SUV shakes suddenly, a strange rocking back and forth that stirs Beatrice from her musings. She straightens in her seat, her neck swiveling left and right as she tries to pinpoint the source of the disturbance.

_Well done Mary. We’re being attacked, and I’m bloody defenseless!_

The SUV shakes again and Beatrice takes a deep breath, bracing herself for the worst. Seconds later a familiar mop of golden brown hair pops up outside her window, and she almost falls off her seat.

“Hi babe! Miss me?”

The woman is practically bouncing on her feet like an excitable puppy, her smile wide and beaming. Beatrice can only stare at her utterly gobsmacked.

_What the fuck…_

“What the bloody hell are you doing here?!”

Ava shrugs, as if it were perfectly normal for her to be here talking to Beatrice right now. As though there was nothing out of the ordinary about the most wanted civilian in Spain, the civilian who was just kidnapped, to be casually loitering outside the supposedly top secret OCS safehouse without a care in the world.

Just a typical, standard day in the life of Ava Silva apparently.

“I figured you could use a rescue,” Ava replies nonchalantly as she opens the door and motions for Beatrice to turn around.

Beatrice snorts, the idea positively absurd. _“You?_ Rescuing _me?!”_

“Look, I can leave if you want...”

“No!” Beatrice exclaims, her eyes wide with panic. Without a second thought she turns around and offers Ava her bound wrists. “Untie me. Quickly.”

To her credit, Ava wastes no time and skillfully unlaces Mary’s knots. “Bossy. I like it.”

“Now is _not_ the time Ava.”

“You weren’t saying that when we were getting bombed in the alcove,” Ava replies matter-of-factly as she tosses aside the ropes. “If I recall correctly - and trust me, I do - you were saying the exact opposite of that.”

Beatrice flushes at the memory, and Ava’s flirtatious grin does not help matters in the slightest. She clears her throat and tries valiantly to grasp onto any remaining vestiges of professionalism. “That…t-that was different.”

“Oh yeah?” Ava asks, looking thoroughly amused. “How?”

_Yes Beatrice, how?_

“W-well…fo-“

“Mary!” Lilith’s voice rings out across the road, loud and clear. “There’s Ava! Beatrice has her!”

“I _knew_ she was playin’ us!” Mary exclaims as she bolts back to the car, hand reaching into her coat to pull out a shotgun.

Ava’s eyes widen at the scene and she turns to Beatrice panicked. “Now what?”

“Now we run,” Beatrice replies as she grabs Lilith’s duffel from the seat, tossing it to Ava and taking Mary’s for herself. “Come on!”

The two sling the pilfered bags over their shoulders and bolt towards the metro station, the yells of the OCS agents echoing in their ears. Beatrice tunes them out, focusing instead on the woman beside her and the giant M sign that acts like a beacon straight ahead. She mouths an apology to a stunned Camila as they push past her, doing her best to ignore the guilt that pools in her stomach at the thought of betraying Camila _again._

“You’re still my favourite!” Ava yells to Camila over her shoulder with a beaming smile, almost barreling into a group of tourists as a result.

_Oh for God’s sake!_

Beatrice rolls her eyes and yanks Ava down the sticky stairway of the Metro. “Stop flirting and run,” she pants, tugging the woman behind her with dogged determination.

“Didn’t realize you were the jealous type,” Ava wheezes, her foot catching on the uneven tile.

Beatrice throws her a filthy look as they both come screeching to a halt in front of the turnstiles. “Focus Ava,” she begs her, glancing back as she hears Lilith’s shouts. “Do you have any change?”

Ava dodges a woman loaded down with shopping bags, almost toppling them both as she awkwardly pats her pockets. “Uhhhh….nope. But I have gum?”

“Nevermind,” Beatrice replies, vaulting over the turnstiles and gesturing for Ava to follow suit. The younger woman is surprisingly agile, and she effortlessly hops over the metal bars with a cheeky grin, fishing out her stick of gum the moment she lands.

“But it’s cinnamon!”

Beatrice practically gags at the thought as they bolt towards the nearest platform, the departure bell chiming loudly in her ears. She bounds onto the waiting train and turns to face Ava who pulls up right beside her. “That’s disgusting.”

“Excuse you,” Ava pants, her cheeks flushed a delicate pink, “it’s an acquired taste for a mature palate. It’s not my fault that you haven’t evolved.”

Beatrice snorts as they meander through the carriage, choosing a pair of seats near the back of the train. “Out of the two of us, I don’t think _I’m_ the one who needs more evolving,” she replies, breathing a sigh of relief as the train starts to pull away from the station.

“Says the woman who needed a rescue.”

_Touche._

Glancing out of the opposite window, Beatrice watches on with smug satisfaction as an irate Lilith and Mary yell at the station master, demanding that he stop the train. She feels movement beside her, and she tilts her head curiously as Ava slides over to the other side of the carriage and raises her middle finger at the pair, a bratty little smirk plastered firmly on her face.

“Ava!”

“What?”

“That’s not very nice,” she admonishes through barely concealed amusement.

“Well maybe if they had offered me cookies, we’d be on better terms,” Ava shrugs as she moves back to sit beside Beatrice.

The agent rolls her eyes, though the very thought of Camila sends a sharp stab of remorse straight to her heart. Beatrice has certainly burned that bridge now, even if it were through no fault of her own. Perhaps she can get a message through to Camila at some point, help her teammate understand that everything that happened was just a great big cosmic misunderstanding. Afterall, how was Beatrice to know that Ava would just miraculously find her?

_Come to think of it…how did that happen?_

“Ava…”

“Beatrice,” Ava drawls, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

“How did you find me?”

Ava shrugs seemingly more interested in the various advertisements that are scattered around the carriage. “Lucky guess.”

“Lucky guess?” Beatrice echoes, raising her eyebrows in disbelief.

“Mhhmm.”

“You made a guess to find me at a random church?”

Ava relaxes into the seat, stretching her legs out with a satisfied sigh. “Before we were rudely separated, you told me to meet you at a church-“

“Chapel,” Beatrice absently corrects her.

“Chapel, church, whatever,” Ava waves her off dismissively.

Beatrice frowns. “No, it’s not _whatever_. They are two very separate things!”

“If you say so.”

“Weren’t you raised by nuns?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Ava groans, dropping her head back dramatically.

Beatrice _really_ wants to argue the point, but the rational side of her brain reminds her that there is something slightly more pressing to deal with. “You know what, never mind. Just explain to me how you found me. In the simplest terms you can manage.”

“Well, I figured churches were kinda your thing, so I just hopped around until I found the one you were at,” Ava replies blithely, as if it were the most logical conclusion in the world.

“But-“

Suddenly Ava bolts upright in her seat, pointing out the window excitedly as the train rolls to a stop. “Oh hey look! It says there’s a McDonalds nearby! Can we go? Pleaaaseee? I’m starving!”

Beatrice eyes her suspiciously. “You said you didn’t have any money.”

“So? We’ll busk.”

Beatrice stares at the woman in front of her, hoping that she is joking. When it becomes clear that she is not, the agent takes a heavy breath, steeling herself for what is sure to be a titanic struggle of wills.

“Ava,” she starts in her most patient voice, “we are on the run from highly trained special agents-“

Ava raises her eyebrows as she leans back in her seat, her eyes roving over Beatrice and assessing her critically. “You’re a special agent huh? Interesting.”

Beatrice quickly averts her eyes from Ava’s piercing gaze, suddenly interested in everything but the woman next to her. The words had slipped out of her mouth without a second thought, and Beatrice grits her teeth at her laughably rookie mistake.

_Well done Beatrice. Way to blow your cover._

“Yes,” she replies simply, hoping to just sail right past her little faux pas. “And so are they. So no, we cannot waste time busking for McDonalds.”

Ava shrugs, seemingly unbothered by Beatrice’s revelation and the fact that they were being pursued by skilled operatives. “So I’ll just tell them it’s my birthday. That should at least score me a free Happy Meal.”

Beatrice stares at her in disbelief. “Do you even listen when I speak? Or is it just background noise to you?”

Ava blinks at her, looking vaguely offended. “Of course I listen to you Bea.”

“Good. So hear me now: forget the damn McDonalds!”

“Okay, okay!” Ava exclaims, throwing her hands up in defeat. “ _But_ when we do stop for food, I want the biggest burger there is. And fries. LARGE.”

“Fine.”

“FINE.”

Beatrice huffs in annoyance as she slumps down into her seat, exhaustion finally taking its toll. “Sometimes I just hate you.”

The light flickers around them as Ava tilts her head and gives Beatrice an unreadable look, her usually expressive eyes giving nothing away. After a long moment Ava’s lips quirk up in a soft smile, and she reaches for the agent’s hand.

Bringing it to her lips, Ava plants a gentle kiss on Beatrice’s knuckles. “I know.”

Her lips barely brush Beatrice’s skin, and yet the agent feels her touch _everywhere._ It’s both new and familiar, calming but also wildly exhilarating. A conundrum, just like Ava.

Beatrice blinks down at her hand, still firmly grasped in Ava’s smaller one, finding herself a little shell-shocked by the sweet gesture. Biting her lip, she surprises herself as she turns her palm over, intertwining their fingers shyly. “I’m glad you’re safe,” she admits quietly, afraid to shatter the peaceful moment that blanketed them.

Ava turns to face her, a wealth of emotions that Beatrice can’t even begin to decipher swirling behind her deep brown eyes. “You too,” she replies simply, the barest hint of a smile playing at her lips as she looks down at their joined hands. “So, I guess it’s just you and me against the world huh?”

Beatrice huffs out a humourless laugh. “Yes it would appear so.”

Ava hums thoughtfully, her thumb absently stroking against Beatrice’s wrist. “I’m ok with that.”

“Me too.”

——

**_On the other side of town…_ **

A lone figure sits behind a brightly lit screen, eyes glued to the red dot that slowly moves across the map. Every so often it pauses before moving again, which leads to the reasonable conclusion that Ava is on some form of public transit.

_Where are you going?_

A knock at the door breaks the silence, and a gangly young man steps into the room. “Here’s the new phone you asked for. May I ask what happened to the old one?”

“I…lent it to a friend.”

The man raises his eyebrows in surprise but accepts the answer. “Ok, well this device is equipped with all the same security features. Though I admit, the tracking beacon on this one isn’t quite as advanced as on your old one.”

“That’s fine. Thank you.”

“If you need anything else, just let me know.”

“Hold on,” the figure taps on the desk loudly, halting the young man as he is about to take his leave. “There is one thing; can I access the microphone on my old device?”

“Absolutely. Give me a few minutes, and it’ll be all yours.”

_Let the games begin Silva._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> If you have questions/requests/wanna say hi you can find me on Twitter @MementoVivere22 or Tumblr @ memento-vivere-20


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Sorry this one is so late but as some of you may know, my immune system and I are going through a rough time. Currently we are working on our issues, and we hope to be in a better place going forward.
> 
> This chapter is kinda plot heavy, but to make up for that I did try to add in a little bit of Avatrice sweetness here and there ;) 
> 
> Take care of yourselves and as always, thanks for reading!

The gentle rocking of the carriage soothes Beatrice as she studies her recently acquired map, her mind formulating a dozen or so different pathways to get them to their final destination. She has a plan, and it’s a solid one. Now they just need to execute it with pinpoint precision. Out of the corner of her eye she can see Ava squirming in her seat and Beatrice braces, waiting for the inevitable.

"Can I ask you something?”

_There it is._

"Of course," Beatrice replies, setting aside the map and giving Ava her full attention. Her companion looks unusually serious, and the sight unnerves Beatrice somewhat.

Ava drums her fingers along the arm rest for a few moments, chewing her lip in what seems to be a nervous habit. Beatrice waits patiently, though she can't deny she's a little curious about what it was that Ava may want to discuss. It wasn't like Ava to be anxious about anything. While she didn't want to rush the woman, Beatrice had to admit that she was rather intrigued where this conversation might be headed.

"What's the deal with your friends?" Ava finally asks as she angles her body towards Beatrice. "Aren't you guys supposed to all be on the same side? You know, the side that is protecting me?”

Beatrice sighs. That was an excellent question, and one she did not yet have an answer for. "Honestly, I don't know. It appears that certain people have their own agendas.”

"Ok, like I get why you don't wanna trust Grumpy Cat and Shotguns. I'm with you on that one hundred percent. But Cookie Lady seems really sweet! Why couldn't we bring her along?”

Beatrice eyes Ava suspiciously. "You just want Camila for her baking.”

Ava shrugs unrepentant, though a mischievous smile tugs at her lips. "Well, she's also pretty cute to look at. Have you seen those eyes? Enough to make a girl swoon.”

The remark sends a wave of molten jealousy flowing through Beatrice's veins, and she knows it's clear in her tone as she snaps out a reply. "If you would prefer to be with Camila, then go right ahead. In fact, yo-“

"I'm kidding Bea!" Ava exclaims, a roguish smile plastered on her face. "Damn, put your green-eyed monster back in its cage.”

Beatrice feels her face burn, but she refuses to give the little devil any further satisfaction. "If that was a reference to me being jealous, I'm not.”

Ava shoots her a knowing look. "Yeah, ok.”

Summoning every ounce of her willpower, Beatrice takes several deep, calming breaths and focuses on the ever-changing scenery out of her window. Perhaps if she ignores Ava for long enough, the woman will finally get the hint and shut u-

"So, how long have you all worked together?”

Beatrice frowns. She expected Ava to try strike up a conversation again, but she honestly thought that the woman would simply continue teasing her. Ava asking her yet another serious question was a shock, and she wasn't quite sure how to handle this more solemn side of her.

"I don't know," she eventually replies. "A while.”

"Really painting a picture for me here Bea.”

Beatrice tilts her head as she regards Ava intently. "Why do you want to know?”

Ava shrugs as she sinks lower in her seat and lolls her head to the side lazily. "Call me crazy, but when a group of women kidnap me, I get a little curious as to who they are and what they want.”

_Well, that makes sense._

"Fair enough," she concedes readily. "We've worked together for almost six years. A little less with Camila as she's a newer recruit. There was another member of our squad, but..." Beatrice trails off as a lump unexpectedly rose in her throat, and she swallows thickly as she attempts to force it back down.

Ava watches her carefully, her brows furrowed with concern. "But what?”

_Just say it._

Beatrice takes a deep breath and tries to ignore the shaking of her hands. "She died.”

She's so focused on trying to blink back the hot tears in her eyes that she barely notices when a soft hand comes to rest atop her own, warm and comforting as it envelops hers completely. She glances up to see Ava earnestly staring back at her, and for just a moment Beatrice allows herself to get lost in those dark eyes that hold an anguish as deep as her own.

"I'm sorry for your pain," Ava replies softly.

Beatrice smiles tremulously as she intertwines their fingers, taking comfort in the way Ava's strong grip grounds her to the present. "Her name was Shannon. She was our team leader, and the best agent the OCS had ever seen.”

"I thought that was you," Ava gently teases as she knocks their shoulders.

“Funny."

"Were you close?”

Beatrice looks off to the side, wondering why she was even entertaining this conversation. She never spoke of Shannon -- or work in general -- with anyone, let alone a civilian. But Ava wasn't just anyone...she was Ava.

"Shannon didn't let anyone get too close to her -- except Mary -- but she was like a big sister to me. It’s been a year, and yet I still miss her every day," Beatrice admits, her eyes misty with tears.

Ava huddles in closer, gently stroking her thumb against the agent's wrist. "Can I ask what happened?”

"There was a mission and it went horribly. We had a plan, and went over the strategy ad nauseum before we went in. But somehow…it all fell to pieces. I don’t know when, or how, but one minute things were fine, and the next Shannon was out of position and we were swarmed.”

“That sounds awful.”

Beatrice nods, her throat tightening minutely. “We lost sight of each other in the chaos. The last time I saw her, she was grappling with a man near a cliff face...we ran to help, but by the time we got to her it was too late," Beatrice bows her head at the memory, her voice tinged with sadness. "She lost her footing in the scuffle and went over the edge. We returned to headquarters without a team leader that night.”

"Hey," Ava says softly, ducking her head to catch Beatrice's eyes. "It wasn't your fault.”

_Wasn't it? Wasn't it all of our faults?_

She glances up at Ava, her sweet eyes open and kind as she attempts to provide Beatrice with some semblance of comfort. The agent appreciates her support, even if deep down she knows she doesn't deserve it. She knows she could have done more. But that's not Ava's cross to bear.

Beatrice smiles as she squeezes Ava's hand in thanks. "The assignment felt off to me from the start," she confesses, the admission falling easily from her lips. "I think Shannon felt that way too.”

"Why do you think that?”

"I got the feeling that she was doubting…” Beatrice trails off, unsure where she was going with her assertions, or why she was pulling Ava into her mess.

Ava, however, seems to have no qualms about getting herself involved. "Doubting what?" she prods curiously.

"I don't know exactly," Beatrice replies shaking her head. "The mission? The OCS? I'm probably reading too much into things, but in the months before her death, she just didn't seem like the Shannon I knew and loved.”

Ava hums thoughtfully. "I mean, given everything, maybe there's something to read into?”

“Maybe."

"So, what happened after that?”

Beatrice sighs heavily. "Bedlam. Mary became team leader, which greatly upset Lilith. She believed she was next in line and didn't take it well when she was passed over for promotion.”

"Seems so out of character for Grumpy Cat," Ava remarks drolly.

"We also lost the head of our unit. After the mission failed, there needed to be a scapegoat. It was a shame because Vincent was an incredible mentor. I miss him dearly.”

Ava's eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. "Vincent huh?" she asks, and there's an edge to her voice that Beatrice easily picks up on.

The agent smirks. "What, are you jealous?”

Ava tenses minutely before relaxing into her seat once more. "I don't have anything to be jealous of, do I? From what I hear, the dude is gone.”

_Oh, she's definitely jealous!_

"For now," Beatrice replies, finding amusement at the way Ava stiffens again. She knows she could put the girl out of her misery, but honestly? After all the nonsense Ava puts her through, a little well-intentioned teasing was fine.

"You two keep in touch?" Ava asks, trying her damndest to seem indifferent.

_I see right through you Miss Silva._

"No," she admits with a smile. "I haven't heard from him in some time. Though I suspect he and Mary might keep in contact as they were quite close.”

Ava nods, her face the picture of practiced nonchalance. "Cool. Cool, cool, cool. So, what does this Vincent dude do now?”

"I heard whispers that he had moved into the private sector," Beatrice replies as she stretches out her cramped legs. "And I believe he is still based in Spain.”

"Probably hanging around in the hopes you'll call.”

Beatrice bites back a smile. "Well, I'm a little preoccupied right now.”

"Yeah you are,” Ava winks, looking entirely too pleased with herself.

"Besides, if I'm going to call anyone, it needs to be Superion.”

Ava glances at her sharply, though her eyes twinkle with mirth. "And what's a Superion?”

"It’s not a what, it’s a who. She's the head of our unit," Beatrice answers with a laugh. "She replaced Vincent.”

"Her name is Superion?" Ava asks, cackling gleefully. "What kind of dumbass name is that?"

"Don't let her catch you saying that.”

"Oh please," Ava waves her off concern with a cocky smirk, "the problem with your agency is that none of you can catch me at all.”

\----

"You know, I'm starting to get _really_ pissed off," Mary grits out as she stomps out of the train station, her teammates hot on her trail.

It’s getting hard not to take it personally. She still has no idea what Beatrice’s end game actually is, but right now it seems like her favourite past-time is just making her former teammates look like absolute fucking fools.

Lilith shakes her head in disbelief as they come to a stop outside a busy café, her hands casually resting on her hips. "I can't believe Beatrice betrayed us. _Again."_

"I'm beginning to think this isn't an accident," Camila adds as she mournfully stares into the distance.

Mary glances over at her peevishly. "You think?"

"It's clear she's doing this on purpose," Lilith states, her tone leaving no room for argument. "She doesn't want us to get to Ava. The question is why."

Camila leans against a grimy tiled wall with a thoughtful expression on her face. "If I had to guess...she doesn't trust us obviously. I can't say I blame her given everything."

Mary rolls her eyes at Camila's assessment. She might be right, but still...she didn't have to like it. She’s trustworthy. Camila is trustworthy. There is only one person in the team that has a huge flashing question mark hanging over them, and if that's what is holding up the mission well...that person needs to be removed.

"You're probably right," Mary replies. "Lilith, you gotta go."

"What?!" Lilith exclaims, her arms falling to her sides as she moves closer to Mary. "Why me? You're the one-

"Nuh uh. We ain't doin' this again," she says firmly, refusing to be drawn into the same tired argument. "It's obvious that you're the one she doesn't trust."

"That-"

"If I were her, I wouldn't trust either of you," Camila chimes in as her eyes flicker between her teammates. "I know it's rather difficult for me."

"Then why are you still here?"

Camila shrugs. "We still have a mission to complete. Would you prefer I just go this alone? Good luck trying to track them down without me."

"Point taken."

"Look clearly this," Lilith gestures between the three of them, "isn't working. Whatever we do, Beatrice is always a step ahead of us."

Mary was inclined to agree. Though, there was an added variable that they had yet to discuss. Ava very clearly _wanted_ to stay with Beatrice. She's the one who freed Beatrice from the car, and she willingly followed the agent onto the train. Ava's cooperation gave Beatrice an advantage that the squad simply hadn't accounted for. And while they may be able to somewhat predict their teammate's next moves, Ava is an unknown quantity, and that one aspect changes the game completely.

It pains Mary to admit it, but perhaps they are fighting a losing battle. As long as the two of them stay united, they would be difficult to pin down. Besides, now that she thinks about it...if Beatrice truly was the enemy, why would Ava be so comfortable with her? Why would she trust the agent so completely? And why hasn't Beatrice handed her off already? Why is she so damn committed to protecting Ava?

Maybe Beatrice _isn't_ the enemy. Perhaps Camila is right, and Beatrice views them as the bad guys. Which means that if they are to try salvage this mission, they need to get Beatrice back onside. It's the only way to secure Ava's cooperation, and Mary needs Ava's cooperation more than anything.

Heaving a weary sigh, Mary glances around at her teammates. "So, I'm opening the floor to new ideas. Anyone?"

"I think we need to speak with Crimson," Lilith replies immediately. "If Beatrice was telling the truth, they weren't working together which means-"

"There's something deeper going on at the OCS," she finishes for her with a tired expression.

"Exactly."

Mary shifts her weight and contemplates how honest she should be. Lack of transparency is partially why they are all in this mess with Beatrice...perhaps a more open approach is better. Especially if it means Lilith will be more forthcoming in the future.

"Look," she starts as she surreptitiously pulls them all into a quiet alleyway, "I've suspected something like this for a while. Since Shannon died."

Camila's eyes are wide as she stares back at her. "What do you mean?"

_Well, here goes nothing_.

"That night by the water...we were set up. We were betrayed and I think -- no I know -- it was an inside job."

Lilith shakes her head. "No...no. The mission went terribly because of poor planning. That's why Vincent was fired. They did the investigation, and Shannon's death was a result of his terrible strategy. When she went over that cliff-"

"It doesn't make sense Lilith!" Mary explodes. A few passerbys give them strange stares, and the team leader takes a moment to calm down before continuing in a quieter tone. "Vincent wasn't even in the fucking country at the time. He barely touched that mission. He was just the fall guy to make Duretti look like he did something 'cause Vincent was the head of our unit."

"But he _did_ help pl-"

“Someone knew we were comin’. They knew if they pushed us from the docks up to the cliff that we would be stranded. They knew to isolate Shannon. I-“

“Mary, I know it’s been hard for you to let her go,” Camila interrupts her gently. “Especially given how she died. But-“

"Duretti didn't even bother to investigate," Mary ignores her and barrels on, barely drawing a breath. "It wasn't just a bad strategy, there was a traitor working against us. And no one cared enough to find out who that was."

Her teammates both toe at the ground in various states of disbelief and shock at her assertions. She knows that it's a bitter pill to swallow; to believe that the organization that you willingly put your life on the line for could be so malevolent.

"So," Lilith eventually replies, her voice devoid of any emotion, "what do you propose we do?"

"I think we should go to Superion."

Camila frowns. "Superion?"

Mary nods enthusiastically. "Yeah, think about it! She knows everything that goes on at headquarters. If there's a rat to find, I bet she would know exactly where to look. Plus, she was the one who gave us the Silva mission. If anyone is gonna know why Ava's file is so messed up, it's her."

Lilith hums thoughtfully. "It makes sense. She also has Duretti's trust, and she and Vincent were close."

_"And_ she trained Shannon," Mary adds, her voice ticking up as she drives the point home. "She'll want answers just as much as we do."

"I like the sound of answers," Camila smiles as she pushes off the wall. "Besides, I have some cookies that I've been meaning to give her."

"Seriously?!"

\----

_"So how's work coming along?"_

_Ava glances up from her meal to look over at her mother. She can see the telltale grin that her mother bites back when she has good news to share, and she cocks her head in interest. She doesn't really know what her mother does; all she knows is that it keeps her out of the house for long periods of time much to her displeasure._

_"Rather well actually," her mother replies as she daintily sips at her wine. "I... I cracked the code Vincent."_

_Vincent sets aside his glass, his eyes suddenly alight with interest. "What do you mean?"_

_"I mean, I've created the portal. It works!"_

_Ava frowns. A portal? Like in the comic books? Huh. Her mom was sorta cool...in a Lena Luthor kinda way._

_It seems Vincent agrees with Ava's assessment. She watches in amusement as he gapes like a fish out of water, and she wonders if his face could actually get stuck like that. Boy, she hopes so._

_"You're not serious?!" he finally exclaims as he leans forward on the table, his eyes as wide as saucers._

_Her mother nods, folding her arms primly. "I'm very serious. Of course, it's small but I know that with greater resources I can build it the way I've always envisioned it."_

_"So what next?"_

_"I have a meeting set up with Jillian Salvius. I know she's just starting out in the tech world, but she's brilliant, and she's building a state-of-the-art facility. I think that together we could create something really special."_

_Ooooh. That must be the lady in the pantsuits that her mom always fawns over. Ava remembers meeting her once at some kind of exhibit her mom had dragged them to...she seemed nice enough, and she gave Ava a cool pen with all sorts of colours. All in all, this Jillian woman seems like a great person for her mom to work with in Ava's opinion. Especially if she can get more of those fancy pens._

_Vincent, however, does not seem as enamoured with the pantsuit lady._

_"You must be joking," he replies harshly, pushing away from the table in an irritated huff. "Jillian Salvius? The woman who is experimenting with babies? You would choose to work alongside a woman like that?"_

_Her mother frowns. "I think that's a gross misrepresentation of wha-"_

_"I have a better idea. Let me talk to my superiors, see if we can work something out."_

_"Why would the OCS be interested in a portal?" Her mother asks suspiciously. "I wasn't aware you were involved in humanitarian work."_

_Vincent shifts in his seat uncomfortably. "The portal could have many applications Lucia."_

_Her mother narrows her eyes dangerously. "I don't want this used for military operations," she replies firmly. "I did not build it for that purpose. You know how I feel about war Vincent."_

_Vincent worked for the military? Huh. Ava was learning all sorts of things tonight. They really should have these dinners more often._

_Vincent smiles, his hands spread in a conciliatory gesture. "You know I feel the same way Lucia. Just let me talk to Duretti alright? I'm sure that we can offer you a much better working environment than Jillian Salvius. An-"_

_"I don't want the military involved!" Her mother snaps, her eyes ablaze with a fire that Ava had never seen before._

_"They won't be!" Vincent insists, his voice rising slightly. "We have many other branches. In fact, I can also get in contact with an old friend of mine that is an investor of sorts. He may be very interested in providing you with backing."_

_"And what would this friend want in exchange?"_

_"Adriel is simply trying to grow his business. Think of him as an up and coming entrepreneur."_

_Her mother hums, her eyes assessing Vincent shrewdly. "I see."_

_"I could set up a meeting with both Duretti and Adriel. You could hear them both out, and if you still prefer to work with Salvius...well then so be it."_

_Ava stuffs a piece of bread in her mouth as she watches the adults closely, completely engrossed in the conversation happening right in front of her. She waits on tenterhooks, curious as to what her mother will decide. Personally, she's pulling for pantsuit lady._

_"Alright Vincent," her mother eventually relents, a calculating look in her eye. "Set up the meetings."_

_Vincent smiles victoriously as he swiftly excuses himself from the dinner table, phone in hand. With a heavy sigh, Ava's mother turns to her and reaches out for her hand, grasping it lightly. Ava squeezes back immediately, sending her mother a sweet smile as she scoots a little closer._

_"Promise me something Ava."_

_"Anything."_

_Her mother tilts her chin up, staring directly into her eyes with a seriousness that has Ava on the edge of her seat. "Promise me that no matter what happens in your life, you will never allow yourself to become a pawn in someone else's game."_

_Ava frowns, remembering the word from that chess book her mother had given her the other day. She doesn't really understand what her mother is trying to say, but she nods anyway. "I won't. I promise."_

_"That's my girl."_

Ava startles awake in a cold sweat, her breath coming out in laboured gasps. A tear leaks from her eye and she hastily brushes it away with the flick of her fingers. Everything around her seems to warp in and out of focus, and Ava desperately struggles to control the tremble of her lips as she feels the ground falling away from underneath her.

_No, no, no...not again_.

Ava blinks furiously to clear the burning moisture in her eyes, and her heart pounds painfully in her chest as each breath becomes more shaky. She gulps in mouthfuls of air, trying to force it into her lungs, but the air only seems to stick in her throat.

_You’re ok. You can do this. Just focus._

The rhythmic swaying of the train is the first thing Ava notices, and she grasps onto the sensation with both hands. Tears squeeze from her eyes as she attempts to sync her breathing with each predictable bump in the track, closing her senses off to everything else but that.

_That's it. Just breathe. In. Out. In. Out._

Slowly the world comes back into focus once more, the darkened spots around her eyes receding and providing her with a clear view of her surroundings. The next breath comes a little easier, the next easier still. Ava relaxes back into her seat as her full senses return to her once more. She remembers now; her escape with Beatrice, the train hopping to throw the agents off their scent...the hand holding.

A voice clears quietly, and Ava is pulled from her thoughts as the woman next to her shifts in her seat.

"Are you alright?" Beatrice asks delicately, her eyes tracking across Ava's face.

Ava tenses immediately at the agent's question, her throat flexing as she valiantly attempts to shove all of her raw emotions back into the tiny little boxes that they rudely escaped from. "Yeah why?"

"Well, you just-"

"Do we have a plan?" Ava cuts in as she gestures to the map the agent is holding. Her jaw clenches painfully as she tries really hard not to take her emotions out on Beatrice.

_Please drop it Bea. Please._

As though hearing her thoughts, the agent watches her carefully for a few moments until wisely deciding to move on. "Uh, yes we do in fact have a plan. We're going to Italy."

And _that_ perks Ava right up. "Ooooh the birthplace of pizza!"

"Also the Renaissance, Galileo, the Gladiators," Beatrice lists off, her eyes twinkling with amusement, "Pompeii, the Vatican-"

"And pasta!"

Beatrice absently taps her pen against her lips. "Actually, I believe pasta originated from China and-"

Ava huffs out a disbelieving laugh as she turns to face her companion fully. "Oh my god...did you just 'actually' me?"

"Pardon?"

Ava shakes her head, her face full of disappointment. "Douche move babe. I expected better from you."

"I was just giving you a fun fact!" Beatrice huffs defensively.

"I didn't find it fun. In fact, it was the opposite of fun. It _ruined_ my fun."

"Well, that's hardly my problem," Beatrice replies primly as she returns to her map.

Ava pouts and slouches back in her seat with a huff. "Do you wanna hear a fun fact? I don't like you very much right now."

"Well that's rather unfortunate, because for the next eight hours you're stuck with me," Beatrice deadpans.

"Only eight?"

"Well that's up to you, isn't it?"

Ava chews her lip thoughtfully. "I think I can forgive this transgression. I'll stay with you."

"Lucky me."

"So," Ava starts, cozying up to Beatrice as she looks over her shoulder, "why Italy?"

Beatrice surprisingly allows the intrusion into her space -- maybe even welcomes it -- as she angles herself closer to Ava and shares the map with all of her notations. "Well for one, we need to get out of Spain. There are too many people looking for you and the OCS has its greatest network here."

"They don't have one in Italy?" Ava asks, her voice lilting up in surprise.

"They do, but it's not as robust," Beatrice admits readily. "Plus, I have my own personal safe house in Vatican City."

"Why Vatican City?"

Beatrice shrugs, but her eyes take on a misty faraway look and Ava instantly knows there's a story there. She also knows that it's not one that she should push for. Not now anyway.

Beatrice had been more than gracious with her earlier, and to be honest, it surprised Ava. She had hoped to gain a little insight into Beatrice’s background, but she had never expected the woman to be so forthcoming about everything. And while Ava would love to dig deeper into whatever story is behind Vatican City, she thinks she’s pried more than enough for one day.

"You having your own safe house is kinda cool," Ava remarks, deftly navigating away from the obvious sore subject. "Very Jane Bond of you."

"I'm so glad you approve."

Ava narrows her eyes at Beatrice's dismissive tone. "I sense sarcasm."

"What gave me away?"

"You should be nicer to me. Don't you know I'm a catch?"

Beatrice laughs heartily at her words, her shoulders shaking with mirth. Ava frowns at the sight. It wasn't _that_ funny.

"Are you now?" Beatrice asks, not even bothering to hide her amusement.

Ava huffs in annoyance, slightly put out by the agent's mocking. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I've got like all of Spain chasing after me. I'm in high demand."

"Yes, but is it for the right reasons?"

_Oh, it's ON._

A sly smile graces Ava's lips as she inches closer to Beatrice, her fingers softly tracing her jaw. "You tell me babe," she murmurs, glowing in satisfaction as she feels Beatrice's cheeks warm under her touch.

"I don't have enough data to make a conclusion either way," Beatrice replies, though it's shaky and Ava knows she's affecting her.

"Well then I guess we should get you that data huh?"

"I guess we should."

The train jerks to the side abruptly, and the two women slam into window with a heavy thud. Beatrice winces at the impact as her shoulder jars against the pane, and Ava burns brightly with embarrassment as her forehead connects with the glass loudly.

"Sorry," she mutters as she untangles herself from Beatrice and settles back into her own seat. "Not my finest moment."

Beatrice waves her off with a kind smile. "It's fine. Anyway, I should really get back to..." she trails off, tapping the map that lays abandoned on her lap.

"Oh," Ava replies, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice. "Yeah, totally. Gotta plan, plan, plan right?"

"Right."

Beatrice shifts back into her seat, and the sweet bubble they had ensconced themselves in breaks into tiny, depressing little pieces. Barely missing a beat, the agent picks up the pencil she had swiped from a nearby passenger and continues to make her notes all across the map, writing in some sort of code that Ava didn’t care to decipher. She figures if it’s important, Beatrice will let her in on it sooner or later.

With a forlorn sigh, Ava rests her chin against her hand, unable to do anything but stare at the beautiful woman in front of her. She watches her silently, admiring the way Beatrice's eyes focus on her task, so full of determination and fire. The agent is without a doubt the most profoundly brilliant woman she's ever met, and Ava can't help but marvel at her like a stupid love struck fool.

"What?" Beatrice eventually asks, not even bothering to look up from her map.

"Hmm?"

With a long suffering sigh, Beatrice deigns to glance up at her. "You're staring."

_Shit. Deny, deny, deny!_

Ava pointedly turns her gaze to stare out the window. "No I'm not."

Beatrice raises her eyebrows slightly but doesn't push the issue. "Right. Anyway, I was just thinking that if we continually switch trains, and make sure to spread out the departure times, we can make it harder for Camila to trace us to Vatican City."

"Mmhmm," Ava replies distractedly as she promptly tunes Beatrice out once more.

She knows that whatever Beatrice is trying to say is probably super important. But she just can't help but be drawn into a trance-like state as she studies Beatrice's jawline, wondering how it would feel to trace her lips across it...maybe even press her lips to-

"Ava, are you listening? If we appear on multiple platforms at varying times, she will need to comb through hours of footage to figure out our actual route," Beatrice drones on, completely focused on the map in front of her. "It wou-"

"I really wanna kiss you right now."

Beatrice instantly snaps her mouth shut and looks over at Ava sharply. "What?"

_Fuck, did I just say that out loud? Shit. Fuck. Goddammit!_

The agent is watching her curiously, and Ava’s heart thuds wildly in her chest. From the start, the two of them have engaged in a dangerous game of cat and mouse, neither willing to concede and let the other claim victory. They’ve been pushing and pulling each other towards a metaphorical cliff at breakneck speed, and now was the moment of truth.

Ava wasn’t playing a game anymore. She knew that she wasn’t going to send Beatrice over the cliff alone. There were a lot of unknowns in their situation, but there was one thing that Ava did know for sure. She was ready to fall _with_ Beatrice now.

No…she was ready to catch her.

"Ava?" Beatrice prompts her once more as she sets her map aside.

_What the hell...go big or go home Silva._

"I know this is so not the right time. But I just want to..." Ava trails off, her arms flailing wildly as she tries to pluck her words from thin air, "you know. Put it out there, or whatever."

Beatrice nods slowly, seeming almost disappointed with Ava's reply. "Right. Well, consider it 'out there'."

Ava bites her lip as she glances over at Beatrice. Clearly she isn’t sweeping the agent off her feet, and that bothers Ava more than having half of Spain after her. Beatrice isn’t hers, and she never will be unless she picks up her game. Perhaps a more direct approach was needed…maybe Beatrice was someone who needed things spelled out.

Clearing her throat, Ava faces Beatrice more fully, a serious expression on her face. "Just so we're clear -- this is me registering my interest. Formally."

Beatrice's eyebrows tick up in surprise, and she tilts her head to the side. A long moment passes before she simply replies, "I see."

Well, that was hardly the rousing response Ava had expected. Granted, she didn’t deliver a sappy rom-com monologue, but they were on the run and Ava was operating on less than a few hours of sleep and no McDonalds. This was as good as it was gonna get for now.

Ava turns away from the agent, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly. "Well anyway-"

"I wouldn't be opposed to revisiting this conversation," Beatrice hastily cuts in, ducking her head to meet Ava's eyes. She smiles softly and Ava almost melts at the sight. "At a more appropriate time that is," she adds with a pointed glance towards the map that was still grasped in her hand.

_Ok...you can work with that. Get in there Silva!_

"Huh," Ava replies, feeling full of bravado once more. She shuffles closer to Beatrice, her hand purposefully brushing against the agent's in the lightest of touches. "Soooo...you're not opposed to the conversation, or you're not opposed to me kissing you?"

Beatrice's cheeks tint a delicate shade of pink, but to her credit she never breaks eye contact with Ava. "Either."

_And I'm back! She's TOTALLY falling for me._

Ava flashes her a beaming grin. "Message received."

Beatrice's flush intensifies, and she clears her throat as she subtly leans away from Ava. "Now can we..." she trails off, waving the map around in from of Ava's face.

"Oh yeah! Um...what were you saying?"

Beatrice tsks lightly, but Ava knows that the agent is more flattered than frustrated. She relaxes into her seat with a satisfied smile. Everything was going perfectly. She was free, she was about to get the girl, it was all ju-

"Of course, we do still need to have that discussion," Beatrice adds offhandedly as she flips through the map.

Ava frowns as she tilts her head towards Beatrice. "What discussion?"

"The one we were about to have at the Europa. You know, when you were trying to tell me something? I believe it was the truth," Beatrice teases, her eyes twinkling merrily.

It feels as though someone has just thrown a bucket of ice-cold water on Ava as reality abruptly crashes down on her. In all the chaos Ava had forgotten about her brief attempt at honesty. Looking back, she's not entirely sure what she was thinking. It's not that she doesn't trust Beatrice it's just...after her recent conversation with a certain person, she's come to rethink things.

Beatrice is so much more important to Ava than she had ever intended her to be. It was a welcome surprise, but also rather inconvenient. All the same…Ava isn’t ready to let Beatrice go, and confessing is a sure-fire way to bring everything they’ve built crashing to the ground.

However...maybe she could offer Beatrice at least something. Not the whole truth obviously, but enough to satisfy her. Ava hates the idea of lying to Beatrice, especially after the agent had been so open and honest with her earlier. And the more Ava falls for her, the worse it feels to keep her completely in the dark. She knows that she wants something with Beatrice, but what kind of relationship would it be if it was only going to be built on lies?

No. Beatrice deserves better than that. They both do.

With a deep breath, Ava steadies her nerves before she turns to face Beatrice. "Ok, about that. The thing is I-"

Right on cue, Ava feels a harsh buzz in her back pocket, and she immediately is snapped out of the moment once more. Beatrice watches her with a curious look on her face, and Ava can't help but stare back as she contemplates her next move.

"Are you alright?" Beatrice eventually asks, her words measured and careful. Her hand instinctively reaches for Ava's, and Ava can't help but relax at her gentle touch. "You seem a little...off."

Concern swims in Beatrice’s eyes and the guilt that pools in Ava’s stomach doubles as it starts gnawing at her insides viciously. Her throat tightens as the lies bubble to the surface once more, sitting at the edge of her tongue just waiting to slip out. The phone buzzes once more, and Ava freezes in place as Beatrice looks around quizzically trying to pinpoint the sound.

Ava knows she needs to get out of there _pronto._ Beatrice will absolutely kill her if she finds out about the phone. That is a whole other set of questions that Ava most certainly does not feel like answering any time soon.

"Y-yeah I’m f-fine," Ava stutters, her eyes pointedly avoiding the agent's. "I just um... I really need to pee. Is there a bathroom on this train? I feel like I haven't gone in hours."

"Yes," Beatrice replies slowly, not even bothering to hide her worried tone. "It’s towards the back of the carriage. Are you sure y-"

Ava shoots up from her seat in an instant. "Thanks I'll be right back."

She meanders down the narrow aisle with a heavy heart, her eyes zeroing in on the tiny washroom at the end of the carriage. With one last glance back at Beatrice, she pulls the heavy metal door open and slips inside the pitifully small compartment, ignoring the unpleasant smell that greets her instantly. Locking the door she leans against it and whips out the phone with a weary sigh. Three unread messages stare back at her, and she grits her teeth as she opens up the thread reluctantly.

**Unknown Sender:** _Remember what we talked about._

**Unknown Sender:** _Btw when you get to Vatican City, try the carbonara._

**Unknown Sender:** _I know a good place if you want a recommendation._

Ava huffs in irritation, her fingers flying across the screen.

_You bugged me?_

**Unknown Sender:** _You bugged yourself._

**Unknown Sender _:_** _Keeping the phone after swiping it? Rookie move Ava._

Ava's grip tightens around the device as she reads the message. They were right, but she would die before admitting that. She angrily punches back a reply, her pride sufficiently wounded.

_Fuck you_

Her stomach grumbles, and she rolls her eyes before sending another text in quick succession.

_Also, I would love that recommendation._

_And a pizza place too if you know of one._

**Unknown Sender:** _Ristorante Arlu._

**Unknown Sender:** _And Pizza Zizza Caffetteria._

Ava re-read the names several times, committing them to memory. She would have to figure out a way to convince Beatrice to let them stop on the way to the safehouse. Maybe add it to her little map thingy. In code of course.

_Thanks!_

_Your precious phone is going in the toilet now_

**Unknown Sender:** _Smartest decision you've made in days._

**Unknown Sender:** _Remember, don't trust anyone. Not even Beatrice._

Ava promptly drops the phone in the toilet. “And that’s about enough outta you.”

\----

_A harsh knock sounds at the door and Superion startles in her sleep. Glancing at her side table blearily she notes with irritation that her clock reads 2:00am. The banging continues, loudly and insistently, and as she irritably drags herself from her warm bed the agent swears that whoever was on the other side of that door had better be practically dead._

_"If this isn't a-," she starts, but cuts off immediately as she takes in the scene in front of her. "Lucia? Ava? What are you doing here?"_

_"Can we come in?" Lucia Silva asks, shivering as she hugs a clearly frightened Ava close to her body._

_"Of course, of course, please!" she replies, ushering them inside immediately. "Has something happened? What's going on?"_

_Lucia looks distraught, practically on the verge of tears as she glances down at Ava. "Sweetheart, why don’t you go rest on the couch. It’s late, and you need some rest."_

_"No! I want to stay with you!"_

_"I'll be right here Ava. But you need your sleep ok? And the grownups need to talk.”_

_“But-“_

_“I’ll be here when you wake up." Lucia reassures her daughter, her smile not quite reaching her eyes._

_Ava’s lower lip trembles as tears silently track down her face. "You p-p-promise?"_

_"I promise."_

_Ava nods reluctantly and shuffles over to the couch, sniffling as Superion lays a blanket over top of her. "Rest now," the agent says. "I'll take good care of you both."_

_Ava whimpers quietly as she snuggles into the blanket, tossing and turning until finally finding a comfortable position. Lucia and Superion watch her quietly for a few moments before retreating to the kitchen, Superion immediately reaching for her best whiskey._

_"What's going on Lucia?" she asks as she pours them both a glass and takes a seat at the kitchen table._

_Lucia sighs, glancing over at Ava briefly before she joins her at the table. "Someone tried to run us off the road," she replies softly, her eyes heavy with exhaustion._

_"What?!" Superion exclaims. Lucia shushes her as Ava stirs, and she sends a tight smile of apology before continuing quietly, "are you sure it wasn't an accident?"_

_"I'm sure. This wasn't the first time an attempt has been made on my life."_

_Well that was news to her. What sort of business had Lucia gotten herself involved in? Didn’t she just sit in a lab and play with test-tubes all day?_

_“Lucia, what's going on? What aren’t you telling me?"_

_Ava stirs in her sleep, and Lucia watches her with a melancholy look on her face. “Superion, you know I consider you a very dear friend. I need you to promise me something."_

_"Of course,” she replies immediately, the response automatic and ingrained._

_"If something were to happen to me, I want you to open this," Lucia says, handing a thick envelope to the agent. "In there are detailed instructions-"_

_"Like a will?" Superion asks, ignoring the sinking feeling of dread that was trickling down her spine._

_"Not quite,” Lucia replies calmly. “I need to know Ava will be taken care of. I need to know she will be safe. This," she taps the envelope, "is how I do that."_

_Superion nods as she carefully sets the envelope on the table. “Why not give it to Vincent?"_

_"Vincent is a good man, but he and I see things very differently I'm afraid. Especially when it comes to Ava."_

_Reaching out for Lucia’s hand, Superion gives her a gentle smile. "Rest assured that I will carry out your instructions should the need arise. But, that won't happen because I'm going to keep you safe. I'm going to keep both of you safe."_

_Lucia smiles at her sadly, her mournful eyes wandering over to Ava once more. "I wish you could."_

The sudden ring of her phone startles Superion, and she nearly topples out of her desk chair as she reaches into her pocket to retrieve the device. "Mary,” she grunts as she pulls the phone to her ear. “What can I do for you?"

"We need to talk,” the agent replies brusquely. “About the Europa. About Ava."

Superion sighs. It was time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> If you have questions/requests/wanna say hi you can find me on Twitter @MementoVivere22 or Tumblr @ memento-vivere-20


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeyyyy everyone. So I know this one is a little late, and as a few of you know it's because I really struggled with parts of it. The amount of times this chapter has been written, deleted, rewritten (you get the picture, it's been a never-ending cycle) is insane, and honestly I'm still not thrilled with it. But as one lovely reader said to me, ya gotta move on so we can get to the good stuff! So with that in mind, please forgive me if this seems clunky or generally meh...I did write a longer Avatrice scene to hopefully make up for the delayed chapter ;)
> 
> As always thanks for reading!!!

"So," Superion starts as she settles into her chair, "I assume this meeting is because you still have not completed your mission." She glances around the busy cafe, her eyebrow raised in question. "Where is Beatrice by the way?"

Mary shifts uncomfortably as she looks towards her teammates who pointedly avoid her gaze. For the first time in her life it seems Lilith has nothing to say, and Camila is suddenly incredibly interested in her tea.

_Cowards._

"With Ava. Somewhere..." Mary eventually replies. The admission that they've lost not only their teammate, but their charge as well makes her feel more than inadequate. "Camila's workin' on it though," she hastily adds, hoping that will redeem them slightly in their boss' eyes.

It doesn't. Superion looks less than impressed as she stares down the squad in front of her. "I see. And what is it you need me for?"

Mary takes a deep breath as she considers her next move. There's so much she wants to ask Superion, but she needs to pick her moment wisely. She can't go in shotguns blazing, accusing the OCS of some sort of high level conspiracy. As close as her boss was to Vincent, she was also a loyal confidant to Duretti, and served faithfully as his right-hand woman.

No, she had to start small and work her way up. Best to open with the Silva file and go from there. After all, it's not like Ava was _that_ important in the grand scheme of things, so Superion should have no problems opening up about the little shit.

"I wanna talk about the Silva mission," Mary says, leaning forward on the table with her arms crossed. "It's been a shitshow right from the beginning."

Superion regards Mary curiously as she takes a sip of her coffee. "How so?"

"For one, we were told to protect Ava," Lilith replies, inserting herself into the conversation for the first time. "Imagine our surprise when we arrive at the Europa, only to find other OCS squads trying to kill her."

"Not only that, but the whole file was wrong from the start!" Mary tacks on, her voice rising in frustration. "What the hell is goin' on Superion?"

Their boss sighs heavily as she sets aside her coffee. "I don't know why the other squads were there with a different mission," she answers calmly, a striking contrast to the tension that was emanating from the woman opposite her. "I was simply asked to direct all squads to the Europa."

"Who asked you? Duretti?"

"Yes."

"So Duretti changed the mission?" Lilith asks, leaning forward on the table eagerly. "If he gave the order, surely it must have been him."

Superion shrugs lightly. "Not necessarily. It's also possible that Crimson herself acted alone, or on orders from another unit. I can't say."

"But-"

"All Duretti did was order the squads to the Europa. I never heard him give a direct order either way as to what they were to do when they arrived."

Lilith accepts the answer grudgingly, though she still appears less than convinced. Mary can't help but agree...while its in character for Crimson to go rogue during missions, she also knows that Duretti is not a man to be trusted.

Still, they have to move on. Clearly, Superion isn't going to give them any other answer, and they don't have time to spin in circles.

"I have another question," Mary states, pinning Superion with a hard stare. "You were the one that gave us the Silva file. Did you know she wasn't an eight year old girl?"

Superion frowns as she looks around the table. "Who said she was eight?"

"The damn file!" Mary bursts out, slapping the manila folder on the table furiously.

Superion watches her carefully, her eyes sliding to the folder that sits in front of her. She picks it up hesitantly and thumbs through it, her expression giving nothing away. "Well," she eventually replies, "I don't know anything about that."

"Ok," Mary grits out, doing her level best to keep her irritation at bay, "what do you know then?"

Superion clings to her coffee and takes a long measured sip, her eyes boring into Mary's over the rim of her mug. She's calculating, assessing the situation, and Mary can't help but wonder just what it is that her boss is hiding.

_Just spit it out Superion. We ain't got all day for your dramatics._

"This stays between us?" Superion finally asks, her eyes sweeping across the table.

"Of course," Lilith replies immediately, as Camila nods her agreement in tandem.

Mary regards Lilith warily. Superion is clearly hesitant in giving them any further intel and is only doing so at Mary's insistence. If the team leader has misjudged the situation -- misjudged Lilith -- then she could be putting Ava, and Superion herself, in jeopardy.

As much as Lilith will huff and puff about it, there's only one thing for Mary to do. For the sake of the mission, she has to play it safe until she knows for sure.

"Actually," Mary starts with a sideways glance towards her teammate, "maybe you should leave Lilith."

"What?!" Lilith demands, her mouth dropping open in outrage. "What do you mean leave? I'm not going anywhere!"

Ignoring her outburst, Mary turns to Superion with a serious expression. "She can't be trusted. She's up to something."

"Me?! You're the one who has some explaining to do. Perha-"

"Oh no. This is on you. I-"

"Girls!" Superion barks, clapping her hands twice to bring them to attention. "I don't have time for this nonsense. If neither of you can be trusted then you don't deserve this information."

Mary looks over at her in dismay. "But I-"

Superion stands abruptly, haughty and imposing as she stares them all down as though they were misbehaving children. "Figure yourselves out," she orders with a scowl. "Camila, come with me."

Camila nods obediently, practically falling over herself as she scampers out of her chair and grabs her bag. "Ummm...catch up with you later," she says with an awkward wave.

Mary can't do anything but watch on in disappointment as Superion disappears out of the cafe with Camila hot on her heels. They had their shot, and Lilith ruined it for them all. As usual.

"Good job Mary," Lilith mutters snidely as she sips at her cold tea. "I hope you're pleased with yourself."

_Wait, she's blamin' me? The fuckin' audacity of this woman!_

"Hold up. This is your fault. If you had just left-"

"I didn't need to leave! We are on the same bloody side!" Lilith bursts out, her hands flinging outwards as if unable to contain the absolute rage she was feeling in that moment.

Mary can relate to the sentiment wholeheartedly. She's _this_ close to tossing Lilith over the nearest bridge.

"I did what I had to do to protect the integrity of both the mission, and whatever Superion was going to tell us. I don't know what you're up to but-

"So ask me!" Lilith cries out. "Stop sabotaging the mission every two seconds!"

Mary tilts her head as she regards Lilith thoughtfully. She supposes its worth a shot. Maybe the demon would be truthful, maybe not. But she has nothing to lose by trying a new tactic...it wasn't like things could get worse.

"Fine," she concedes, leaning back and spreading her arms wide in a conciliatory gesture. "What are you up to Lilith?"

"I'm not up to anything, per se," Lilith hedges as she toys with her mug. "I'm just following orders."

"That's not helpful! You gotta give me more than that."

“Fine, Lilith grits out, her nostrils flaring in annoyance. “Shortly after Superion gave us the assignment, Duretti asked to see me. It wasn't about the mission, but he just wanted to know in general how things were going and such...you know he's a friend of the family," she adds smugly.

Mary rolls her eyes. "Yes, I know Lilith."

"Anyway, I had mentioned the Silva case in passing. It seemed to spark his interest, and he wanted to know more. S-"

"And you told him?" Mary cuts in incredulously. "You do know the meaning of 'top secret' right?"

"He's the head of the OCS Mary," Lilith fires back. "I'm sure he could have sourced the information himself, even without my help. There was no use stonewalling him."

_Fuck, I hate it when she makes sense._

Mary waves for her to continue. "Fine. Go on."

"He requested that I deliver Ava to him, and not the Americans. We changed the pickup date in order to miss the hand-off deadline and therefore leave the Americans stranded."

Tilting her head in thought, Mary considers all the information she's gathered in the last few minutes. Duretti was the one who wanted Lilith to go off book, and Lilith wasn't trying to harm Ava...Superion clearly didn't want Ava harmed...so who the actual fuck was Crimson working for?

It must be the traitor within the OCS. The same one who betrayed Shannon. They were connected somehow…she just had to find the link.

"Why did he want Ava?" Mary asks curiously. "What was so special about her?"

Lilith shrugs. "I have no idea. He didn't say."

"And you didn't find that strange at all?" Mary prods her, casually sipping at her cold coffee.

"I don't make a habit of questioning my superiors, particularly the head of the OCS."

"Maybe you should."

Lilith's lips quirk up in a small smile. "Maybe. Now, your turn."

Mary nods as she straightens in her chair. "I've been in touch with Vincent since he was fired. We've been trying to figure out who the traitor is."

"Does he want his job back?"

"No... I don't know. He just wants to clear his name ya know? Anyway, I mentioned we were workin' the Silva case, and it lit somethin' in him. He thought it might be the key to lure out whoever betrayed us."

Lilith furrows her brows in confusion. "Why this case?"

"I dunno," Mary shrugs, gesturing to the waiter for another refill. "We didn't have time to really talk about it before I was in the field. I was hoping to get answers either from Ava, or Vincent when I saw him. But you know how that went."

"So Vincent wanted Ava?" Lilith asks as she drums her long fingers against her mug thoughtfully.

"Yeah."

"But why would he want _her_ specifically?"

"Like I said, we didn't have time to talk but I got the feeling she was important to whoever betrayed us."

"But you don't know who betrayed us," Lilith points out. "So why would Vincent think this girl is important? Unless Vincent knows something he's not sharing with you."

_God dammit, she was right again._

"He's not hiding anything from me," she insists stubbornly, though her mind was already starting to doubt. "I'm sure he has his reasons for wanting Ava. Above board reasons."

Lilith raises her eyebrows but doesn't push the issue. Mary knows that it sounds silly when she says it out loud, but it had made sense when Vincent suggested it. However, now that she's hashed it out with Lilith...perhaps she shouldn't be in such a hurry to deliver Ava.

It appears Lilith is also on the same wavelength. "I'm wondering if whether we shouldn't rush into anything with Ava just yet," she says hesitantly, her eyes flickering up to meet Mary's. "Not until we ascertain the truth about both Duretti and Vincent's objectives.”

_Damn, how many times am I gonna agree with this witch today?_

"I think that sounds like a solid plan," Mary agrees, her eyes softening as they catch Lilith's across the table. "And we’ve still got the Americans to consider. Fuuuuck,” she groans, scrubbing a hand over her face as the events of the past few days hit her full force. “I really hope Camila is havin' better luck with Superion. When she gets back, maybe she'll have some more intel she can share."

Lilith nods absently. "In the meantime, we need to strategize how to deal with Ava and Beatrice once we find them."

"No violence this time," Mary warns her. "No matter how tempting it might be. We gotta build trust with them. If we want answers, it can't be us versus them anymore."

"Agreed. I think that is the correct approach."

"I'm so glad you approve," Mary replies snidely.

"Don't be petulant Mary. I'm trying to pay you a compliment."

"Well do it with a little less condescension next time huh?" she retorts peevishly, glaring at the woman across from her.

Lilith smirks as she throws back the remainder of her tea and gracefully rises from the table. "Who said there would be a next time?"

\----

After hours of travelling to Vatican City via the most indirect route imaginable, Beatrice leads Ava up a rickety flight of stairs towards a wooden door with peeling paint. There's a faint whiff of stale cigarette smoke that hangs in the air, and Ava scrunches up her nose at the offending odour as she waits patiently for Beatrice to finish jiggling the lock.

"So, this is it," Beatrice announces as she throws open the door and ushers her inside. "It's not much, but it will do."

Ava's eyes light up in keen interest as she takes in the space before her. It's a quaint sun-filled apartment, with the bedroom tastefully separated by a barn-style sliding door. To the right is a small but functional bathroom, and to the left is a kitchen that is simple yet elegant. The rest of the living area is dominated by a large couch, a whiteboard and a plethora of computer screens, and Ava wonders if Beatrice has at least sprung for high-speed internet.

She wanders further into the apartment, a smirk pulling at her lips as she notices the furnishings -- or lack thereof. While she knows they have very important things to discuss -- namely food -- she can't ignore the impulse to tease Beatrice just a little.

"So, this is where the magic is gonna happen huh?" she says, waggling her eyebrows suggestively as she leans against the barn door and glances pointedly towards the bedroom.

Beatrice shoots her a dark look. "There will be no 'magic' Miss Silva. This is a purely professional arrangement."

"Sure babe."

"It is!" Beatrice defends weakly, even as her cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink.

Ava hums thoughtfully as she meanders further into the room, making herself comfortable. "If that were true, there wouldn't be just one bed would there?"

"I swear to God, if you start tha-“

"It's already happening, just like I predicted." Ava saunters back towards the agent, a flirtatious glint in her eye. "You wanna kiss me. You said so yourself," she smirks, reaching out to tangle their hands loosely.

Beatrice huffs, but doesn't move to push Ava away. "Actually _you_ said that. I merely said I wasn't opposed to it."

"Same thing."

"No, _not_ the same thing."

Ava shrugs indifferently as she moves further into Beatrice's space. "If you say so."

"You're insufferable, you know that?" the agent murmurs, her forehead resting gently against Ava's.

"Yet you still wanna date me."

And _that_ does it for Beatrice. "I never said I wanted to date you!" she splutters indignantly as untangles her hands from Ava's and puts some distance between them. "You have a very vivid imagination, you know that?"

Ava grants Beatrice her space, choosing instead to lean against the nearby dresser as she faces the agent. "Speaking of imagination -- I had this dream on the train, and let me tell you-"

"No," Beatrice waves her arms in the air, her eyes scrunched shut. "Please don't tell me."

"Suit yourself," Ava sighs in disappointment. "But as an fyi; you look great in lace."

Cheeks reddening, Beatrice quickly averts her gaze. "I-I'm going to do a sweep, make sure the place is as I left it," she says, her voice cracking ever so slightly.

As the agent scurries back into the living space to do...whatever it was she was planning to do, Ava pushes off the dresser and ambles towards the bed, stripping off her leather jacket lazily. She flops down on the mattress and moans loudly, partly because she's super jazzed to finally have somewhere to sleep, and partly to get Beatrice a little worked up.

"Ava."

She cracks an eye open to see Beatrice staring at her strangely from the doorway, her arms crossed defensively.

_Fuck, what now?_

"Where did that come from?" the agent asks, an edge to her voice as she pointedly looks towards her hip.

Ava blinks down in confusion, her eyes widening slightly at the sight that greets her. The stolen pistol stares back at her, in all its contraband glory.

_Oh shit._

Ava quickly assesses her options as she pushes up into a sitting position on the bed. She and Beatrice are in a much better place than they were a few days ago...if she Razzle Dazzles her now, she most definitely can get away with it with zero follow up.

"Where did what come from?" Ava replies innocently, tilting her head in faux confusion.

Beatrice narrows her eyes peevishly. "The gun, Ava."

"Oh this old thing?" Ava says, waving the pistol in the air haphazardly. "I stole it when I was making my grand escape. You know, when I got kidnapped under _your_ watch?"

A strangled noise escapes Beatrice's throat at the reminder, and her hands drop to her side as she looks away shamefaced. Ava's stomach curls into knots at the sight, and she immediately feels awful for trying to guilt trip the agent.

She opens her mouth to backtrack, to try to make things better, but Beatrice beats her to the punch.

“I’m sorry about that,” Beatrice says quietly, her eyes full of regret. “But you never thought to mention the gun before?"

It physically pains Ava to see Beatrice in such anguish over her kidnapping, especially when she _knows_ there was nothing she could have done to prevent it. The fact that it is Ava herself that is twisting the knife into what is obviously a sore spot makes everything even worse, but she forces herself to swallow her remorse. Now was not the time to get soft. Not mid-Razzle Dazzle.

“It didn't come up," Ava shrugs nonchalantly as she sets the pistol aside on the bedside table.

"Anything else I should know that 'hasn't come up?'"

_Yes. Practically everything._

Ava flops back down on the bed. "I dunno," she replies indifferently, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue. "Guess we'll find out when it comes up."

_3, 2, 1..._

"Ava!"

"What? I don't know what information you find relevant or not."

"It's all relevant!" Beatrice exclaims, her voice rising in frustration.

"Oh ok. Well..." Ava trails off, a thoughtful look on her face, "the other morning I needed to pee, but I couldn't find a bathroom, so I went to this alleyway. But there was this old dude peeing, so then I wa-"

"You know what?" Beatrice cuts in, her fingers massaging her temples. "Nevermind."

"But I haven't even gotten to the good part yet!" Ava whines theatrically. "Like when he whipped ou-"

"I really don't need to hear it," Beatrice assures her as she potters around the bedroom, gathering up a few odds and ends from her drawers.

Ava watches curiously as Beatrice quickly crosses the apartment and makes her way towards a faded green door. "Where are you going?"

"I'm having a shower."

"Ooooh! You want any company?"

"No," Beatrice immediately snaps, slamming the door behind her.

Ava sighs heavily as she starfishes across the bed. It was a successful Razzle Dazzle, but was it worth it? She's starting to suspect not.

\----

It’s a dreary day in the park as Camila and Superion stroll the perimeter, doing their best to blend into the sparse crowds. After leaving the café, a thick, heavy silence has settled between them, neither woman in a rush to break it. Camila knew Superion had a lot on her mind, and she herself has much to think about. Her boss was expecting a full accounting of the mission, but how honest should she be?

Beatrice always said to trust your team, but her team has done nothing back backstab the entire mission…granted, she herself has done her fair share but that was mostly at Superion’s urging. And Superion herself hasn’t done anything to make Camila question her so…perhaps full disclosure was best. Especially if it will help Ava.

"Soooo," Camila drawls awkwardly as she swings her arms back and forth, "is everything ok?"

Superion shakes her head, her eyes stormy and unfocused. "That file was altered. I barely recognized it.”

Camila nods, a small smile on her face. “Yes, we figured that when Ava turned out to be a very large eight year old.”

“It isn’t a joke Camila,” Superion snaps. “I need you to find out who tampered with it, and why.”

“Of course. Do you…” she trails off, biting her lip as she considers her next words carefully, “do you think it was the Canadians?”

Superion glances over at her, confusion written plainly on her face. “What?”

“Nevermind. It was just a theory I had. Americans versus Canadians…you know…” she trails off embarrassed, blushing an impressive red hue.

There’s silence for a few moments as Superion stares at her blankly before moving on. “What's going on with the other girls? You haven't checked in since the Europa."

"Right, sorry about that. Things got a bit hectic."

Superion waves her off. "I understand. Circumstances can change rapidly when you are in the field. But you’re here now, so tell me.

"Well, as I reported earlier in the mission, both Mary and Lilith are acting incredibly suspicious. I’m not entirely certain what their intentions are towards Ava, but I’m working on it.”

"And Beatrice?"

"Is with Ava," Camila confirms. "She was planning to take me with her, but then Mary tied her up-"

Superion instantly whips her head around, her face coloured in shock. "She did what?!"

"Apparently she didn't trust her," Camila shrugs. "Anyway, Ava came to Beatrice's rescue and then the two of them took off."

“Of course she did,” Superion murmurs, her voice tinged with pride. ”Are you tracking them now?"

Camila nods. "Yes, Beatrice tried to be sneaky, and she almost succeeded but... I have my ways," she says with a smug smile.

"Good. While I do trust Beatrice, I will feel better once Ava is under my care."

"I understand. But if it makes things easier, I truly believe that Beatrice only wants the best for Ava."

"Yes, everybody often claims to want the best for Ava, when in reality they want the best for themselves," Superion remarks bitterly. "She will be better off with me."

Camila bites her lip as she averts her eyes from her boss, caught off guard by the emotional tone of her voice. "We'll have her back soon," she assures her quietly.

Superion exhales heavily as she sits down at a nearby bench and gestures for Camila to join her. “Ava is a very special girl. And as such, there are many who wish to use her for their own purposes.”

“Why?” Camila tilts her head curiously.

She knew Superion had some sort of personal connection to Ava, but her boss has never fully explained it, and she’s never wanted to push. But if she was offering up information now…well, Camila was going to grab onto this opportunity with both hands.

Superion shifts on the bench, her body tense as she gazes at Camila with frightening intensity. “I sent you an encrypted file earlier. It is for your eyes only, do you understand?”

Camila nods immediately. “Yes, of course. You know you can trust me,” she replies sincerely.

Superion searches her eyes, looking for any hint of deceit. Seemingly satisfied, she relaxes back into the bench with a melancholy smile. “Ava is her mother’s daughter. In more ways than one it seems.”

“I don-“

“Ava’s mother entrusted me with her wellbeing. I watched over that child for years and when I couldn't, I always made sure that she would be taken care of. I spent years preparing for this moment and now..." she trails off, clenching her jaw as her eyes shimmer suspiciously, "I failed her. I failed them both.”

_Both? Was Superion was supposed to protect Ava’s mother too?_

Camila makes a mental note to do a more thorough dive into Ava’s past later. In all of her recon, neither of Ava’s parents were ever mentioned. This was certainly new information, and another indicator that there was more to this case than they were led to believe.

But that was a problem for a different time. Right now Superion looks absolutely bereft, and it breaks Camila’s heart.

"No, you didn't fail anyone,” she rushes to say, eager to put her mentor’s mind at ease. “You never could. And the team failed Ava, with our infighting and distrust. But we're going to make it right. I promise."

Superion inhales sharply and awkwardly pats her protégée’s hand. ”Thank you, Camila.”

She smiles warmly, happy to have brought some comfort to the older woman. But her smile falls abruptly as she remembers that she still has more news to report, and she’s certain that her mentor will be less than thrilled to hear it.

"There's something else. Mary..." she trails off hesitantly, unsure of how much she should share. "I-I think she's going rogue on the Silva mission because of Shannon."

Superion narrows her eyes dangerously. “Shannon? She’s throwing Ava to the wolves over Shannon?!”

“I’m not entirely sure how Ava fits into her plan, but Mary doesn't believe the OCS investigated enough," Camila explains tentatively.

"So she's taking it upon herself?"

"Yes."

Superion shakes her head as she gestures for them to continue their walk down the deserted pathway. "I should have known it would come to this. I wish we could have done more for Mary...given her the closure she desperately needed. I know she believes we gave up too early but there was nothing more we could do.”

“I know the OCS is about head over heart but…that doesn’t mean it hurt any less. Especially for Mary.”

“I know.”

“And I understand her confusion about that night," Camila confesses softly. "What happened doesn't make sense. Those mercenaries knew we were coming, and they knew our weaknesses. They knew to go after Shannon."

"Camila," Superion sighs heavily as though she had the weight of the world on her shoulders, "missions go wrong. I don't deny that those mercenaries certainly seemed to have some sort of inside information however...if the strategy was sound, it wouldn't have mattered. They wouldn't have succeeded."

"I know," she concedes unhappily. "It's just hard to reconcile sometimes. One minute Shannon was there fighting alongside us, the next...gone, over the cliff and into the darkness. We scrambled down to the water as quick as we could bu-"

"It wasn't your fault Camila," Superion insists forcefully. "You all did the best you could. Vincent should have known better. He placed all of you girls in an impossible situation and didn't even have the decency to be there when it all went to hell."

"Where was he?" she asks, the hurt rising up as though it were just yesterday. "Mary insists he had nothing to do with it, that he was innocent but... why didn’t he come on the mission with us? I can't get over the fact he just abandoned us like that."

"Yes well, Vincent has a habit of abandoning those he claims to care for," Superion mutters with a sour look on her face. As though realizing her slip, she sends Camila a tight smile. "I've known him a very long time. And I can tell you this -- the blame for that night lays squarely at his feet, and should Mary ask me, I would tell her the same. The OCS closed the investigation for a reason.”

"So you don't think there is a traitor among us?"

"What I think is that Mary is hoping to find fire, despite the fact that _she's_ the one causing the smoke."

Camila nods thoughtfully. "And you don't know where Vincent was during the mission?"

"Oh, I do."

Frowning, Camila looks over at her boss sharply. "Well, where was he?"

"Vatican City."

\----

The sunset casts a romantic pink-purple glow over the apartment as the girls buzz around, one with noticeably more energy than the other. For the past two hours Ava had been nagging Beatrice about leaving to go find food, and against Beatrice's better judgement, she agreed with two caveats:

One, they left at dark. And two, they had to be in disguise.

The last one had delighted Ava far too much, and she spent a good portion of the afternoon digging through Beatrice's sparsely populated wardrobe to find the "perfect outfit" for dinner. And that was how the agent now found herself in this absurd situation; with a green wig, heavy eye makeup and all black attire looking like she belongs in a goth band. For her part, Ava looks ready to hop on stage alongside her with a purple wig, glittery eye shadow and scuffed up Doc Martens.

They look absolutely ridiculous.

"I like the green hair, it suits you," Ava comments as she coyly gives her the once over. "Very punk."

Beatrice grimaces as she stares in the mirror. "I look like a frog."

Ava hums thoughtfully as she sidles up behind her, resting a hand lightly on Beatrice’s waist. "But a very cute frog."

"But a frog nonetheless."

"Well, I guess you better kiss your princess then," Ava teases as she puckers her lips.

Beatrice swats her away good-naturedly. "Well, let me know when you find her," she quips. "Until then, we should go before the streets get too busy."

Ava pouts impressively as she trails after Beatrice, her puppy dog eyes on full display. "Aren't you at least going to compliment me?" she sulks as they traipse down the stairs side by side.

Beatrice merely smiles as she ushers Ava through the doors and into the deserted streets, pointedly ignoring the grumbling from her companion. She figures this could count as payback for the ridiculous outfit that Ava has practically forced her to wear. Nothing hurts Ava more than a good poke to the ego.

They walk several blocks in silence before Ava deigns to talk to her again. "You know," she says with a sour expression on her face, "it's customary to compliment the person you're dating."

Beatrice hums noncommittally. "Perhaps. But we're not dating."

_"Yet."_

"Or ever, if you keep this nonsense up," she replies blithely. "Aren't you meant to be sweeping me off my feet?"

"I'm trying!"

Beatrice bites back a smile. "Oh? I hadn't noticed."

Ava stomps off ahead muttering curses under her breath and Beatrice can't help but be amused at the sight. She really shouldn't get so much pleasure out of riling Ava up, but after days of being on the receiving end, it feels nice to get a little revenge.

A few blocks later Ava comes to a stop in front of a rundown building, and she turns to face Beatrice with a beaming smile on her face. "This is where I wanna eat!" she proclaims loudly.

Beatrice's eyes take in the grungy restaurant in front of her, and her stomach plummets into the pavement at the hauntingly familiar sight.

_Pizza Zizza._

Her eyes prick with unshed tears, and she clenches her jaw, fighting the emotions that are threatening to bubble over as memories wash over her in waves. Memories of Vincent, of Shannon, of the whole team happily sharing a meal together for what would be last time.

This is where she wants to eat?! It's a shabby looking establishment, and not at all inviting to the casual passerby. Of course, Beatrice knows that appearances in this case are absolutely deceiving, but still.

She remembers that night vividly, when Vincent had to practically drag them all in there, swearing it was the best pizza place in all of Italy. The group had been skeptical of his claims, but an hour later, he was vindicated. The tastes were truly incredible, and the team had ended up devouring half the menu in one sitting.

However, despite knowing how good the pizza is, Beatrice really doesn't want to eat here. The memories are still too fresh, too painful. It feels as though it were only yesterday that the six of them were sitting around a wooden table, laughing and drinking as Vincent regaled them with his youthful adventures, while Shannon and Mary surreptitiously held hands underneath the table.

Beatrice knew if she explained herself to Ava, that she would ultimately understand. Ava is many things, but she isn't cruel. She's kind and compassionate, and if she felt Beatrice was uncomfortable, the agent knew that Ava would move on without hesitation.

But at the same time, Ava looks so excited at the prospect of eating pizza. Did Beatrice truly want to take that away from her? Especially if this is going to be her first experience at a restaurant. Who knows what kind of awful food she was forced to eat at that orphanage. Besides, it’s clear that Ava is battling her own demons...she deserves this.

But the moment Beatrice looks back into the restaurant, the memories come back once more. Does it have to be _this_ particular pizzeria?

Ava clears her throat. "Earth to Bea...you still in there babe?"

Beatrice expels a heavy breath as she turns to face Ava, careful to keep her features relaxed. "This is where you want to eat?"

"It says it has the best pizzas in town!" Ava replies defensively as she jabs her finger towards a faded flyer in the window.

Beatrice snorts derisively. "That doesn't mean it actually has the best pizzas in town."

"Woooow. You really don't trust anyone do you?"

"I would be terrible at my job if I did."

"Then why would they say they were the best if they weren't?" Ava challenges her, hands on hips.

Beatrice shrugs a shoulder. "Anyone can claim to be the best."

Ava barks out a laugh. "Right. The way you claimed to be the best agent, and yet we were found in less than a few hours?"

Beatrice bristles at the insinuation that she is anything less than capable, and even more at the reminder of her recent failures. She was well aware of her blunders; she didn’t need Ava pointing them out.

"I never claimed to be the best," she replies snippily.

"Oh really? _'Listen to me Ava, I was the top of my class Ava'_ ," the woman mocks her in a poor imitation of Beatrice's voice.

She grits her teeth at Ava's immature display, her eyes blazing dangerously. "Tha-"

"I told you I was the hide-and-seek champion!" Ava bursts out, days old frustration bubbling to the surface. "I had it!"

Beatrice scoffs at her words. Really? This woman thought that a few childhood games could compare to her numerous years of combat training?

_She's delusional!_

"Look," Beatrice starts, her tone laced in annoyance, "if you think we would be better under your leadership, then have at it."

Ava accepts the challenge immediately with a triumphant smile. "I will! And first thing I order-"

"You're not a general."

"First thing I command-"

"You're not a queen," Beatrice interrupts her drolly, pulling them into the alleyway as tourists meander down the busy street.

"Whatever!" Ava waves her off, undeterred. "Our first mission is to eat at that pizza place."

Beatrice accepts her fate with a heavy sigh. She fought hard, but if there is one thing she has come to learn, it is difficult to out-stubborn Ava Silva. It didn't mean she would ever stop trying though.

“You know,” she starts, intent on getting one last barb in, "I've never met anyone as determined to catch salmonella as you."

"I don't know what that is, but it sounds terrific," Ava replies brattishly. "Let's move! Or...is it over and out?"

Beatrice rolls her eyes. "Come on."

"That doesn't sound very secret agent-y."

"That's because you're not a secret agent."

Ava hums, an unreadable expression in her eye. "I could be," she says cagily. "Maybe I'm totally playing you. A honey-pot, if you will."

The phrase rings alarm bells in Beatrice's head, and she looks over at her companion sharply.

_She wouldn't...would she?_

"A honeypot?"

"Mmhmm," Ava nods as she shoves her hands into her leather jacket. "I've watched the movies. In James Bond, there's always a honeypot."

Beatrice tilts her head as she considers her explanation. It…oddly makes sense. In an Ava sort of way. Of course the woman would make this whole scenario about a movie. But still, she should check…just to make sure.

Clearly telegraphing her move, Beatrice drops to the ground and sweeps her leg out, kicking Ava's feet out from under her in a matter of seconds. Ava lands with a thud on her back and Beatrice winces at the sight as she slowly rises from the pavement, hovering over her companion with a sense of relief.

_Oh, thank God. No intuitive survival skills whatsoever._

"Holy shit," Ava wheezes as she writhes on the cobblestones, "What the fuck was that for?!"

"You're not a secret agent," she smirks, her eyes glued to the woman sprawled comically on the ground.

"What makes you so sure?"

Beatrice relaxes her stance, tilting her head thoughtfully. "A trained agent never lets their guard down. I was quite obvious in my intentions, and yet you didn't bother to defend yourself."

"Maybe being bad at my job is part of my cover."

Shrugging, Beatrice extends her hand to Ava and gently guides her to her feet. "Well then I guess I have nothing to worry about do I?"

"No," Ava murmurs, a soft smile gracing her lips, "I guess not."

Goosebumps travel down the length of Beatrice's spine at the proximity of the other woman, and her heart stutters in her chest as Ava's eyes sear into hers, refusing to look away. They are a storm entirely of their own, sparking and bright even in the surrounding darkness, and Beatrice can't help but be mesmerized by the sight. Ava’s skin is practically glowing under the dim streetlight, and her lips are shiny with her ridiculous pink chapstick. She's gazing at Beatrice intently, a question lingering in her eyes.

“A-are you ok?" Beatrice nervously stutters, the tension of the moment overwhelming her.

Ava blinks, a whole slew of emotions running across her face in a matter of seconds. Slowly, she leans forward to brush a light kiss against the corner of Beatrice's mouth, hovering for a brief moment before pulling away. "The next time you want me on my back, just ask," she whispers, her voice low and sultry.

Beatrice chokes on air at the insinuation, a thousand wildly inappropriate images suddenly flooding her mind. She can still feel the lingering warmth of soft lips on her face, and it does nothing to quell the tantalizing daydreams that currently occupy her thoughts.

As if knowing _exactly_ the sort of storm she’s just unleashed, Ava steps back with a coquettish smile and bats her eyelashes flirtatiously. She looks far too smug for Beatrice's liking, and suddenly the Ava-induced fog starts to lift.

However, before she even has a chance to reclaim her pride Beatrice feels a warm hand slip into hers, tugging her into the restaurant. A small smile slips across her lips at the sensation, and she allows herself to be led inside, all of her previous misgivings about the pizzeria slowly fading into obscurity with every step she takes. By the time they are fully in the restaurant and seated, she needs to take a few minutes to gather her wits once more.

"Wait," she says, pursing her lips as she glances around the room, "we're not dining in."

"Why not? We didn't get all dressed up for nothing."

"We're in disguise because we are on the run," Beatrice hisses, her senses slowly coming back to her. "We can't simply sit down and enjoy dinner. We need to get in and get out."

"How romantic," Ava deadpans as she stares at her wholly unimpressed. "Look, we did all that train hopping to buy us some time right? So let us live a little. A few hours won't kill anyone."

_"Hours?!"_

"Fine. One hour, tops."

Beatrice lets out a long sigh as she considers Ava's proposal. She supposes they could spare one hour...she knew for a fact there were no cameras in the restaurant, and the team would be at least a few hours behind them. They could have this.

"Alright," she relents, dipping her head gracefully, "one hour."

"So, does this count as our first date?" Ava asks playfully as she inspects the menu.

Beatrice's heart flutters at the possibility. She told herself it was silly; there was no way they could be on a date right now, given everything that was going on. And yet, as Beatrice stares across at the woman in front of her, she can't deny that this feels like a date...and even more to the point, she _wants_ it to be.

Still, Ava can't know that. The last thing that woman needs is another distraction.

"We are not on a date," Beatrice replies firmly, though her heart screams the exact opposite.

Ava quickly snaps her head up from the menu, her dark eyes sparkling under the fairy lights. "We're not?"

"No."

"So I can't walk you home and give you a goodnight kiss?"

"Well, you are coming home with me-"

"Yeah I am!" Ava cuts in goofily, a proud smile on her face.

"But this isn't a date," Beatrice reiterates staunchly. "We are just two people eating dinner together."

Ava flops back in her chair and frowns, clearly unhappy with her statement. "But I wanna kiss you," she states plainly.

Beatrice blinks, touched by Ava’s blunt honesty. To be with someone who was so open with their feelings, and so unafraid to voice them, sets her heart racing. There were many uncertainties in their situation, but there was one thing that she was absolutely sure of - this thing between them was real; a safe harbour amidst a raging storm of chaos.

As Ava continues to stare at her with intense longing, Beatrice feels her breath catch in her throat. The final vestiges of her professionalism were quickly slipping away, but out of propriety, she attempts to make one last pitiful grab for them anyway.

“Yes, so you've said."

"And you wanna kiss me," Ava reminds her plaintively.

"Your point?"

Ava shrugs, her fingers drawing nonsensical patterns on the table as she stares purposefully into Beatrice's eyes. "Just seems to me like we're about to enjoy a nice candlelit dinner, do a little flirting, and then maybe a whole lotta kissing. And I know I don’t have a lot of experience, but that kinda sounds like a date.”

Beatrice's stomach flips at the thought, her lips tugging upward as Ava's words play on loop over and over in her mind. She finds herself inching closer to the woman, suddenly aware of her subtle perfume and her slightly laboured breathing. Just a l-

_For God’s sake, get a grip! You’re in public!_

Clearing her throat, Beatrice quickly averts her gaze. ”If it makes you feel better to label it that, then sure," she replies, careful to keep her tone neutral. "Now can we order? I really don't want to be out in the open longer than necessary."

Ava wiggles in her seat grinning triumphantly. "Sure! And just to be clear -- you got the part about us doing a whole lotta kissing after this right?"

Beatrice keeps her eyes firmly glued to the menu, especially as she feels that telltale heat creeping up her neck. "Order your food Ava."

"I'm gonna take that as a yes. And as such..." Ava trails off with a smirk, snapping open the menu with dramatic flourish, "no garlic for me," she singsongs.

A waiter quickly appears at their table, a dour expression on his face as he fills their water glasses. ”What can I get you?”

Beatrice smiles politely. ”I'll have the Speciale pizza." Catching Ava’s eye, she smirks wickedly. "With _extra_ garlic please."

Ava's mouth drops open in shock, though her eyes twinkle with mirth. "You know what? Make that two,” she grins playfully.

The two smile like idiots at each other as the waiter nods dutifully, jotting down their orders with a practiced ease. He barely spares them a second glance as he makes a hasty retreat back to the kitchen, but the women are far too wrapped up in each other to even notice.

Beatrice is practically buzzing, the pure electric feeling she gets when she's near Ava sparking emotions within her that had long been forgotten. To hell with professionalism, and to hell with ethics. She finally feels alive again, and she refuses to ignore the source of her happiness any longer.

_For once in your life just let go. Live a little._

Ava smiles coyly from across the table, and that familiar flutter in her stomach returns.

_Be brave. You can trust her._

Licking her lips, Beatrice decides to take the plunge. “I’m surprised at you Ava…here I thought you were trying to get lucky," she teases, taking a dainty sip of water.

"Oh I'm not just gonna try, I'm gonna succeed," Ava replies cheekily, reclining in her chair with an air of self-assurance that was incredibly appealing. “Extra garlic and all.”

"You're very cocky Miss Silva."

"No, not cocky. Confident," Ava corrects her with a smirk.

Beatrice doesn't even bother to hide her smile this time. "Well, let's see where the night takes us shall we?" she says flirtatiously as she raises her glass.

Ava grins in response. "I'll drink to that."

Warmth spreads through Beatrice's chest like liquid sunshine, and she wonders how on earth she's ever lived without this.

\----

A hooded figure slowly ascends the stairs from the Metro and glances around the busy square, tourists now pouring into Vatican City for their nightly activities. A phone buzzes harshly, and the figure reaches into their pocket and retrieves the device quickly.

"Hello?"

"It's Mattia," a voice hushes on the other end of the phone. In the background, tins can be heard clanging, the sharp clatter echoing down the line.

"Yes of course. What can I do for you Mattia?"

"You asked me to call if those girls turned up...well, they are here," Mattia reports dutifully. "They just ordered pizza. Oh, and they have wigs on," he adds.

"Wigs?" The figure asks, amusement colouring their tone.

"Yes. Green and purple."

"Thank you Mattia, you've been very helpful. Please stall them as long as possible."

"I will," he promises. "Shall I prepare your usual?"

"That would be lovely. I'll see you soon."

The figure chuckles as they pocket the phone and hustle towards a waiting taxi. It almost felt mean, but Ava really did make things far too easy sometimes.

_Always thinking with your stomach Silva._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> If you have questions/requests/wanna say hi you can find me on Twitter @MementoVivere22 or Tumblr @ memento-vivere-20


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeyyyy...so I know this one took a little longer, but here's the thing: there's a lot of emotions happening here, and I have the emotional range of a watercress salad. So, it was a struggle, and I apologize if it's a hot mess but it's done with and I'm just gonna drop it here and go hide under my super cozy comforter.
> 
> Anywayyyy thanks for reading and sticking with me this far!

Thick grey clouds blanket the night sky as Beatrice leads Ava back towards the apartment, hands loosely intertwined and swinging casually between them. It had become somewhat of a habit now; their hands constantly sought each other's, like magnets unable to resist the inescapable pull of attraction.

Ava softly hums a familiar tune as they meander down the quiet streets, and Beatrice finds herself captivated by her effortless charm. Their impromptu date was everything she could have hoped for. Ava was funny, flirty, sweet and attentive. Beatrice was never one for romance or dating, yet suddenly she can't remember why it was all so unpalatable to begin with.

"Just as an fyi," Ava says, her soft voice drawing Beatrice out of her inner musings. "We are now halfway through our date."

"Is that so?" Beatrice replies, a teasing lilt to her voice.

"Mhmm," Ava nods, a sly smirk gracing her lips. "We've completed the candlelit dinner part, and now I'm gallantly walking you home."

"I appreciate the update. It's almost like I'm right here next to you."

"I sense sarcasm."

Beatrice gasps dramatically. "What gave me away?"

"I'm just keeping you appraised of the situation," Ava pouts, her brows furrowing cutely. "According to our itinerary, next on the list is..." she trails off, looking at an imaginary piece of paper. "Wow, would you look at that! The kiss goodnight."

Beatrice really shouldn't find the whole shtick as charming as she does. Of course, she can't let Ava know that. The woman already has an ego the size of Canada, there’s no need to inflate it any further.

"It seems you and I are working on very different itineraries," Beatrice replies dryly. "The next thing on mine is to get rid of this god awful wig."

Ava frowns, her free hand reaching up to twist a strand of green hair around her finger. "But it's cute."

"It's horrendous," Beatrice insists, batting her hand away. "I'm never letting you dress me again."

"Ok, but how do you feel about me _undressing_ you?" Ava posits with an excited gleam in her eye. "Because I think that's where my real skill lies."

Beatrice bites the insides of her cheeks in a valiant attempt to keep her suddenly raging hormones under control. "How convenient for you."

"For _us,"_ Ava winks, looking far too proud of herself.

Beatrice merely smiles, choosing to let the subject drop. They are in public, and the last thing either of them need is a public display that will draw attention. She knows expecting a modicum of self-control from Ava is unfair, so it’s up to her to be the responsible party. As much as Ava may pout, if something is to happen between them, it will have to wait until they are in the safety of her apartment. Beatrice still has a shred of professionalism…somewhere.

Once they arrive at the safehouse however…well, then Beatrice has some decisions to make.

She refuses to overthink this thing with Ava. Her constant overanalyzing of every detail has been the downfall of so many of her previous relationships, platonic or otherwise, and she is determined to break the cycle. For the first time, Beatrice is letting go of her compulsive need to distrust everything and everyone. She just wants to indulge the warm feeling in her gut, the gentle tugging sensation that is telling her to trust Ava.

Yes, Ava has her secrets, but so does Beatrice. While Ava is certainly elusive about her past, Beatrice knows that should the need arise for the truth, Ava would tell her everything without hesitation. The agent cannot imagine that she is holding back any crucial information that would be critical to their mission, or to their own safety. Ava is many things, but she's not truly dishonest.

As Beatrice glances over at her companion she feels that familiar tug, the one that always appears whenever Ava is close. And now it's whispering incessantly in her ear, urging her to trust Ava. To trust in them.

And Beatrice finds herself helpless to fight it. She can't remember the last time she's felt so happy, and she knows that it's Ava who's lit the spark that's now burning brightly inside her. Something that feels this good couldn't possibly be wrong.

As if knowing she’s the subject of Beatrice's thoughts, Ava looks over at her coyly. "Soooo...which one of us is gonna make the big move huh?"

"Pardon?"

"You know," Ava says, her free hand gesturing vaguely. "Are you gonna kiss me first? Or are you gonna play it cool, and wait for me to slide on into first?"

Beatrice bites back a grin. "I do recall you saying something about sweeping me off my feet. When does it start?"

"Well, you're holding my hand, and we just had our first date, so I would say my wooing has been successful so far," Ava replies cockily.

This time Beatrice doesn't even bother to hide her amusement. "Wooing?" she repeats, a smile spreading across her face.

"Mmhmm. You are being wooed. And as the woo-er, I think it's going pretty well."

"I see. Well as the...woo-ee?" she asks tentatively, waiting for Ava's approving nod. "As the woo-ee, I would say that is still up for debate."

Ava hums thoughtfully. "Well, the night isn't over yet. And we do have those coupons for that oyster bar which could really turn this night around, if you catch my drift. In fact-"

Ava continues rambling on, but Beatrice tunes her out. She feels prying eyes on them, and she stiffens at the sensation. The little hairs at the base of her neck stand on edge, and she instinctively clasps Ava's hand tighter, enveloping it securely within her own.

"What is it?" Ava eventually asks, watching her curiously. "Oh, it was the oyster joke, wasn't it? Look Bea, I was kidding. I don't need the oysters, I'm ready to go all-"

Huffing, Beatrice forcefully tugs Ava's hand in a none-too-subtle attempt to shut her up. "I think someone is following us," she murmurs, glancing surreptitiously over her shoulder.

Ava instantly whips her head around, her eyes keenly searching the streets behind them. "Like a stalker?"

"Don't turn around!" she hisses, smacking Ava's arm in frustration. "You'll give us away!"

"Well how else am I gonna confirm we're being stalked?" Ava challenges, clearly disgruntled as she rubs her sore arm.

_Honeypot indeed. This woman wouldn't last two seconds out in the field._

"It's called being discreet," Beatrice grits out, plastering a pleasant smile on her face as some tourists brush past them. "And for God's sake, keep your voice down."

Ava rolls her eyes, a pout forming on her face. "Did you learn that in your Siri class?" she asks petulantly.

"It's _SERE,"_ she corrects her for the umpteenth time, "and yes, I did."

That unsettling feeling washes over her once more, and Beatrice finds herself glancing into a shop window, attempting to catch a glimpse of their pursuer. But again she comes up short, finding herself looking at nothing but a few stragglers who drunkenly wander the street, throwing up hail Mary's much to the displeasure of the more sanctimonious pilgrims.

It's odd...she could have sworn they were being tailed. While dinner was incredibly enjoyable, she hadn't been able to shake the sensation of eyes on them almost the entire time. And now, it's like there is a presence, dark and foreboding shadowing their every move. It's unnerving, and yet she has absolutely no proof to back up her suspicions. No matter which way she looks, there's no one there...it's making her wonder if perhaps she's starting to go a little mad.

"So?" Ava prompts, flapping her free arm impatiently.

Beatrice blinks in confusion, her mind slowly emerging from its downward spiral. "So what?"

"Are we being followed?"

"Oh. I... I don't know," she confesses, the admission stinging slightly.

Ava shakes her head, huffing out a sardonic laugh. "Just to confirm: _you_ were the top of your class?"

Beatrice sends her a withering glare, but it only serves to make Ava smile widely in response. She looks wholly unrepentant, her eyes twinkling with impish delight as she waggles her eyebrows cheekily.

_That brat._

Still, it's best in circumstances such as these to rise above. It is important to project an air of confidence, even if she isn't feeling it herself. All evidence points towards them being clean of a tail, though her intuition says otherwise. But, you can't lead with just your gut, and the last thing she needs is to give Ava any sort of leeway to run off half-cocked and spouting conspiracies.

"I think we are in the clear," Beatrice replies, choosing to be the bigger person. "It seems to be just a drunk tourist."

Ava's eyes light up instantly, and she points to a bar across the street. "Speaking of getting drunk, we could really tr-"

"No," Beatrice cuts her off firmly. "We cannot afford to dull our senses with alcohol right now."

Untangling their hands, Ava sticks her tongue out before leaping towards a nearby lamppost and spinning around it giddily. "Every party's got a pooper, and her name is Beatriceeee," Ava singsongs with a cheeky grin on her face. "And when the part-"

Horrified, Beatrice quickly pulls her away from the post and the two go stumbling clumsily down a narrow cobble stoned street. "Would you stop drawing attention?" she practically begs as Ava throws her head back and laughs rowdily.

Exercising a restraint Beatrice wasn't aware she possessed Ava quiets, her laughter tapering off softly. Spinning on her heels, she starts to walk backwards towards the street, swaying her hips gently. Beatrice braces herself, knowing that the little hellion is not done tormenting her just yet.

Ava gives her a flirty smile, a sense of mischief lurking behind her eyes. "You wanna know an effective way of shutting me up?"

_God yes._

"I would love to hear it," Beatrice replies honestly.

With a satisfied grin Ava comes to a stop, pulling Beatrice into her and arrogantly puckering her lips.

Beatrice scoffs loudly but doesn't move away. "You insult my skills, and then think I would want to kiss you?"

"I mean, it's more of a dig at your classmates if you think about it," Ava shrugs without a hint of remorse, her hands tightening around the agent's waist. "If _you_ were the best they had-"

"You're not helping your case," Beatrice advises her, tugging the lapels of Ava's jacket in warning.

"So no kiss?"

Beatrice exhales heavily, pressing her forehead briefly against Ava's before gently pushing her away. "Not right now."

To her credit, Ava doesn't push the point. Beatrice doesn't know if she feels relieved or disappointed by the fact.

"It was worth a shot," Ava says with a good-natured smile. "Can I still hold your hand? Or am I in time out?"

Beatrice can't help the grin that spreads across her face. "You can always hold my hand Ava."

"Even when I make you mad?"

"Even then."

Ava beams as she takes Beatrice's hand, and the two set off back down the street, trading shy smiles between each other. They're only a few blocks away from the safe house when Ava starts the conversation once more.

"Can I ask you something Bea?"

"Sure."

"On the train, it seemed like there was something more to picking Vatican City than you let on. I didn't wanna push but..."

Beatrice tilts her head, her eyes sparkling fondly. "You're just too curious to let it go?"

"Kinda," Ava admits sheepishly.

Beatrice hums thoughtfully. "You know, you're very observant when you want to be."

"Only when it comes to you."

The admission takes both of them by surprise, and Ava blushes wildly as Beatrice stares at her in muted awe. Ava's brash honesty is one of her favourite things, and it never fails to sweep her off her feet. She wonders if this feeling will ever get old...she hopes not.

Beatrice clears her throat, considering her answer carefully. "Vincent -- my old mentor -- was a big proponent of having a personal safe house. Shannon-"

"Your previous team leader?"

"Yes," Beatrice confirms with a sad smile, "she used to boast about having the best safe house, one where no one would find it."

"Wait, wait, wait," Ava says, waving her free hand wildly, "let me guess; you all found it."

Beatrice laughs. "No. But one night, the two of us were on a stakeout, and we were so tired...almost delirious really. And the subject came up, and she said to me: 'Beatrice, you know the best city for a safe house? Vatican City, because it's the last place people are going to look for a lesbian.'"

"I dunno, I look for lesbians everywhere," Ava snorts.

Beatrice rolls her eyes in fond exasperation. "Anyway, I don't know why, but that conversation stuck with me. I suppose because it was one of the last lighthearted ones we had. I chose Vatican City as a memorial of sorts. I thought she would be proud of me. I know it's silly b-"

"It's not silly," Ava cuts in earnestly, her eyes warm and sincere. "I'm sure she's incredibly proud of you Bea."

Beatrice smiles gratefully, clinging to Ava's hand as though it were a lifeline. "Shannon had a good sense of humour...once she finally opened up. And she loved pranks. She really got me a few times," she reminisces with a chuckle.

"No offence babe, but I don't think you'd be that hard to prank."

Beatrice swats at Ava's arm, narrowing her eyes in faux annoyance. "I think you two would have gotten along famously," she replies with a good-natured scowl.

Ava smiles, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Yeah maybe," she says quietly, her feet scuffing at the cobblestones below. "So ummm...what's the deal with you and the Vincent dude?"

Beatrice bites back a smile, the bitterness in Ava's tone far too obvious. "Are you jealous?" she teases, knocking their shoulders together gently.

Ava glances over at her with an unreadable expression, her jaw muscles ticking minutely. "Maybe," she answers, her voice unusually strained.

Beatrice tilts her head, considering the woman next to her. She's never had anyone be jealous over her before...it's a unique experience, and one she doesn't hate. But, it doesn't seem like Ava is enjoying herself at all. She's tense, coiled tightly like a spring, and Beatrice is afraid that if she was wound any tighter, she might just snap in two. As much as the agent wants to explore this covetous side of Ava, she doesn't want to ruin their night by pushing things too far.

"Don't be jealous." Beatrice squeezes her hand reassuringly, waiting patiently until Ava meets her gaze once more. "He's old enough to be your father," she adds, scrunching up her nose at the thought.

"Maybe you're into that."

"I'm not," Beatrice replies firmly. Still feeling Ava so tense beside her, she decides to move the conversation along. As much as she aches to understand what is happening in that beautiful mind of hers, she knows Ava needs her space and time to work things through. "I must say...this is really nice."

Ava looks over at her quizzically. "What is?"

"Being able to talk like this with you. There's something so freeing about you being a stranger to my life and the people in it you know? It's like a blank canvas, and I'm gaining a new perspective on things."

"Yeah, totally," Ava nods with a tight smile. "I love passing judgments on strangers."

Beatrice laughs, feeling lighter than she has in years. "And you do it so well."

Ava beams at her praise, and it's a goofy, silly grin that sets Beatrice's pulse racing. They may be on the run from half of Spain, but right now she couldn't care less. She's on a date with a woman who makes her heart flutter, and she's on top of the world.

Maybe she's completely wrong about Ava, and maybe she's making the worst mistake of her life. But for one night, just one, she wants to pretend that her blind faith in Ava is warranted, that she won't be made a fool of. For one night, she wants to pretend that it can be as simple as this; that Ava can be hers.

\----

_Sunlight filters through the curtains as a morning breeze blows gently through the room, and Mary rolls onto her back languidly, stretching out her sore muscles with quiet contentment. Reaching out, she frowns as she feels the empty space next to her, cold as though vacant for hours._

_A harsh zipping sound catches her attention, and she twists onto her side, squinting as she makes out a tall figure crouching beside the wooden dresser._

_"You goin' somewhere?" Mary mumbles as she clumsily wipes the sleep out of her eyes._

_Shannon glances over at her with an apologetic smile. "It's just for a few days. I'll be back before you know it."_

_Mary gathers the sheets as she pushes herself into a sitting position, resting against the headboard. "What for?"_

_Shannon pauses her packing briefly, her shoulders tensing. "An assignment," she replies, her voice audibly strained._

_Mary frowns at the answer, her mind still sluggish with sleep. "I don't remember you sayin' anything about a new assignment. Wh-"_

_"It's off-book."_

_"Off-book? Did Vincen-"_

_"I can't talk about this with you Mary," Shannon says, her tone unusually sharp. "Please drop it ok? It's only for a few days. I'll be back before you know it."_

_Mary nods, swallowing back her hurt. "You been disappearing on me a lot lately."_

_"I know," Shannon murmurs. "I know, and I'm sorry."_

_Mary bites her lip as she watches Shannon neatly pack her clothes into the small black suitcase. Her girlfriend looks exhausted, as though she hasn't slept in days. She's lost weight, her face gaunt and pale, like she's barely seen the sun. Maybe she hasn't…to be honest, given how secretive and absent her girlfriend has been lately, Mary wouldn’t be surprised if Shannon had joined some sort of vampiric cult._

_Mary exhales, her hands twisting in the sheet anxiously. "You've been distant, and snappy. It's not like you."_

_"I'm just tired," Shannon sighs, the words coming out as hardly more than a faint whisper._

_"I've noticed. What's goin' on Shannon?"_

_Her girlfriend shakes her head, setting aside her packing as she comes to sit beside her on the bed. "You know I love you Mary," she says with a sad smile._

_"Yeah. I love you too," Mary replies, her voice cracking slightly._

_Shannon reaches out for her hand, her eyes forlorn and weary. "You protect the ones you love. I'm protecting you. And I'm protecting others."_

_"Protecting us from what?"_

_Shannon sighs heavily as she returns to her suitcase, looking as if she has the weight of the world on her shoulders. "I know all of this doesn't make sense right now but...it will at some point in the future. You just have to trust me alright?"_

_"I do trust you," Mary immediately assures her. "Always."_

_Shannon accepts her answer with a nod, zipping up her suitcase with a flick of her wrist. "I have to go."_

_"Hey," Mary reaches for Shannon, resting her hand just above her girlfriend's heart. "You're not alone. Whatever you're doing...I'm here, and I'm willing to help."_

_Shannon smiles and softly presses her lips against Mary's forehead. "I'll see you soon."_

The sound of the van door being wrenched open drags Mary from her reverie, and she glances into her rear view to see Camila clamouring into the backseat with all the grace of a baby gazelle.

"Sorry," Camila pants, "I had to recharge the laptop, and then of course my kettle wouldn't boil."

Lilith turns around to face her, a sour look on her face. "We've been waiting all this time for you to make tea?"

"Don't worry, I brought plenty to share," Camila replies, blissfully unaware of the glares being thrown her way. "And then I had to feed Master Chubbingswood. He gets a little hangry, especially when he first wakes up."

Mary _really_ doesn't wanna know but...

"Master Chubbingswood?" she asks, already regretting her decision.

"My cat," Camila says, proudly displaying a photo of a fat ginger furball. "Isn't he the most handsome thing you've ever seen?"

"No," Mary and Lilith reply in perfect unison.

Grumbling, Camila settles into the backseat with a pout and Mary lets her thoughts wander once more. Her memories triggered something in her, and now she can't shake the suspicions that are permeating her mind.

The weekend Shannon went on her 'off-book mission', Vincent was also nowhere to be found...and she has no idea where either of them went. She never made the connection before, but after Lilith's concerns about Vincent's true intentions with Ava, Mary is seriously starting to wonder whether her mentor has been completely honest with her.

She's never been one to doubt Vincent but now...well, she has questions. For Vincent, for Superion, even for Ava. They're all connected, she's sure of it. She just needs to figure out how.

"So, do we have a destination?" Lilith asks impatiently as Camila fusses with her bags in the backseat.

With a long-suffering sigh Camila sets aside her devices and leans between the centre console, handing Mary a hand scrawled note. "Just so you know, this wasn't easy. Beatrice was re-"

"Vatican City," Mary interrupts her, surprise evident in her voice. "That's an interesting choice."

"God, we haven't been there since Vincent and..." Lilith trails off, biting her lip as she suddenly finds dashboard oddly fascinating. Sensing the rising unease, Camila busies herself looking out the window as a thick silence blankets the van, the tension overwhelming.

"Shannon," Mary fills the quiet irritably. "You don't have to pussyfoot around me."

Lilith and Camila share a look through the mirror. Neither squad member looks like they believe her, but they wisely keep their doubts to themselves. She slams her foot on the gas pedal in retaliation, and van peels out of the parking lot with a screech and onto the highway within minutes.

"Mary...are you going to be ok?" Camila inquires timidly, her fingers twisting around a used tissue.

Mary doesn't know how to answer the question, so she sidesteps it entirely. "Look, we gotta figure out why the fuck Beatrice would choose to hide out in Vatican City of all places. There must be a reason for that."

"Has Beatrice ever visited Vatican City, aside from the time we all went on the mission?" Lilith asks.

"Not that I know of. But that girl seems to be full of surprises lately."

Camila looks off to the side as the two senior squad members carry on the conversation, guilt written all over her face, and Mary wonders what she knows. The younger girl has been suspiciously quiet since her walk with Superion, and the team leader senses that something is definitely up. Unfortunately for Camila, Mary no longer has the patience to sit around and wait to find out.

Pulling the van over with a screeching halt, Mary unbuckles her seat belt and rounds on Camila with a fiery determination. "You know something. Spill. Now."

Camila gapes at her wide-eyed, like a deer in the headlights. "I-I don't know what you're talking about."

"Cut the crap. Give us the truth, or you can walk to Vatican City."

Lilith stares at Mary with thinly veiled shock but doesn't jump to Camila’s defense. Instead she opts to mirror Mary’s pose, the two staring their teammate down in a rare show of solidarity.

Quickly sensing this is a fight she won't win, Camila crosses herself before leaning towards the centre console. "I have intel about where Vincent was during...you know."

"Shannon's last mission?" Lilith supplies delicately, glancing over at Mary.

"Yes," Camila confirms, biting her lip nervously. "Bu-"

"What does Vincent have to do with anything?" Mary cuts in, annoyance lacing her tone.

"You asked me what I know, I'm just answering your question," Camila fires back with a defiance that surprises Mary. "I have intel on where Vincent was that night. But if you don't want to know, then don't ask."

"I want to know," Lilith says quickly, her eyes pleading with Mary to back down. "Whatever information you can share would be most helpful Camila."

Slightly mollified, Camila sits back in her seat with a huff. "Vincent was in Vatican City," she reports, her mouth twisting in distaste. "He deserted us -- Shannon -- and was in Vatican City. Superion doesn't know why, but she has evidence that he visited frequently. And I just think it's _interesting_ that we are heading back there once more."

Mary slumps over in disbelief. Camila is right...this is all far too coincidental. Their last group assignment was in Vatican City, and Vincent blew off a very important operation -- Shannon's last mission -- just to return there. And now that's where Beatrice has chosen to hide the most wanted person in Spain?

What the flying fuck was in Vatican City?! And more importantly -- what the fuck is Vincent not telling her?

"We gotta get our asses out there now," Mary grits out, throwing the van into gear and merging back onto the highway. "There's something shady goin' on, and I don't like it one bit."

"Agreed," Lilith murmurs, her eyes stormy. "I'm beginning to get the distinct feeling that we're being played."

"No fucking shit."

\----

"You know, I've been thinking," Ava announces as she tosses her purple wig aside and kicks off her boots.

Beatrice raises her eyebrows. "That's dangerous," she comments, reflexively tidying up Ava's mess before placing her wig neatly on the counter.

"First of all, rude. Second of all, rude."

"I'm sorry."

Beatrice does not look at all contrite, but Ava decides to be the bigger person about it. Call it personal growth or whatever.

"We didn't eat dessert at the restaurant, so we should make our own."

"Ava, we don't have anything in the fridge. What sort of dessert could we possibly make?"

"You don't even have a packet mix?" she asks, her eyes dolefully looking at the cupboards above the agent’s head.

"Of what?"

"I dunno! Anything. You said the place was full of non-perishables. Cake mix seems like an important one to have."

Beatrice leans against the counter, an impish look in her eye. "You know, I do have some canned pineapple."

Ava frowns, her nose scrunching in disgust. "That's fruit Bea. It doesn't count."

Beatrice chuckles lightly, looking far too amused for Ava's liking. "Maybe you should broaden your horizons?" She suggests, biting her lip. "You might be pleasantly surprised."

"Fruit is not dessert," Ava insists stubbornly.

Beatrice stares at her for an inordinate amount of time before finally shaking her head with a rueful smile. "I'm going to get ready for bed. I'll let you mull over your...dessert options," she winks.

There’s a promise in her eye as she slinks off to the bathroom, and Ava's knees almost buckle as the clear implication hits home.

_Holy shit... Beatrice actually wants this. She wants me._

It was real now. This wasn’t a game, or some hypothetical situation. It wasn’t a daydream that Ava got to enjoy, a fantasy world where she could have Beatrice and still go on her merry way.

She thought she would have more time…she didn’t think Beatrice would actually reciprocate in a meaningful way. And if she did, Ava figured it would be after _a lot_ of prodding about her background. Suddenly, all of her bravado evaporates into thin air and Ava’s chest clenches in terror, reality now firmly pounding its way back into her consciousness once more.

_The dim light flickers overhead, and Ava slumps back in the cold metal chair. Her abductor sits across from her passively, their face giving nothing away. It annoys Ava to no end._

_"This is bullshit!" She finally explodes, her hands slapping the frame of the chair as she pitches forward angrily. "What you're asking of me is total fucking bullshit!"_

_"I thought you wanted to keep Beatrice safe?"_

_"You know I fucking do!" Ava exclaims, her face red with righteous fury. "But does it have to be like this?"_

_"If you truly want what's best for Beatrice, then I would suggest you leave her out of it."_

_Ava huffs as she falls back into her chair, scowling at the person across from her. "Lie to her you mean."_

_"It's for her own good," her abductor insists. "In case you haven't noticed, people who know too much tend to end up dead."_

_"Is that a threat?"_

_"Don't be ridiculous Ava, of course it's not. I'm merely making an observation."_

_Ava glances away, setting her jaw stubbornly. "Well it's a shitty one."_

_"It's also an accurate one," the figure fires back immediately. "The ball is in your court. How you choose to proceed is entirely up to you...just remember that it's not just your safety you’re risking anymore."_

_"I don't want Beatrice to get hurt," Ava admits, her voice cracking slightly._

_"Then you know what you have to do. We've all made hard choices Ava. It's time for you to do the same."_

Ava inhales sharply, blinking back hot tears as snippets of a past conversation replay on loop in her mind, taunting her cruelly. The gravity of her situation slams her backwards, crushing her under the weight of all her bad decisions.

Her lies are tearing her apart and knowing that she may break Beatrice's heart just makes it worse. She knows she should tell the agent everything, that it is only a matter of time before her deceptions catch up with them both anyway. But the thing is... Ava is a coward, and she isn't ready for this fight.

The thought of Beatrice recoiling away from her, the look of grief on her face when she discovers Ava's betrayal...it's too much for her to bear. Couldn't she just delay the inevitable heartbreak a little longer? Just for one more night?

Ava shakes her head, pounding her fist on the kitchen counter. No, she can't do it. As much as she may want to, accepting Beatrice's affections just feels wrong, and Ava knows she doesn't deserve it at all. She's woven a vile web of deception on a woman she claims to care about, and she suspects there's no coming back from this.

She isn't ready to tell Beatrice the truth -- she can't -- but she also won't take advantage of Beatrice any more than she already has.

"Are you alright?" Beatrice's tentative voice breaks Ava's downward spiral as she cautiously approaches her. "You seem...out of sorts."

_Shit._

Ava smiles weakly, putting on a brave face. "I'm good. I'm soooo good. Great actually. And wow, would you look at the time? It's late. We should probably just get to sleep."

"But don't you want your dessert?" Beatrice teases, her lips twitching up in a slight smile.

"O-oh! Right. Y-yeah no. I'm good," she stammers, running a hand through her hair in an effort to calm her fidgeting hands. "I'm super tired so-"

"You're nervous," Beatrice observes matter-of-factly. She tilts her head to the side, assessing Ava thoughtfully. A look of understanding flickers in her eyes, and her face falls slightly. "Is...is this all too much?"

"Is what all too much?"

Beatrice bites her lip anxiously, her eyes darting around the apartment. "I've been too forward," she says, her voice shaky. "I'm s-sorry...I thought with the date, and the wooing, th-"

Ava shakes her head vehemently. "No! No, no, no," she rushes to say, "please don't apologize. It's not that. It's just...I...the thing is-"

"If you're having second thoughts-"

"I'm not!" Ava assures her firmly. "You are the one thing I am sure about. I just...I think maybe we should slow down a little."

"Alright," Beatrice replies listlessly, looking far from convinced. "I respect your decision."

_Good. Now walk away Silva. Go to bed an-_

"It's not because I don't want this, or you," Ava blurts out, as though physically unable to stop herself. "It's the opposite actually. I really don't wanna fuck this up, and if we do this now...you're gonna regret it."

_Goddammit! Why couldn't you just walk away?!_

Beatrice stares at her curiously. "Why would you think I would regret it?"

Ava shakes her head as she pushes past the agent and makes her way into the bedroom. She's itching to admit the truth and free herself of the burden but terrified it might drive Beatrice away forever. She knows the end is coming for them...but she's not ready. Not yet.

She senses Beatrice trailing after her slowly, and she turns to find the woman leaning against the bedroom doorway, her arms crossed defensively. The sight makes her heart ache, and she finds herself wondering once again whether this is all worth it.

"Well?" Beatrice prompts her. "Why would you think that I would regret being with you?"

_Because I'm a goddamn liar. Because I wanna be selfish, and that's gonna get you killed._

"Because you will," she replies instead, with an overly casual shrug of her shoulders.

"That's not an answer Ava."

Ava chews her lip as she glances off to the side. There must be a way that she can have it all. That she can get the girl -- and _keep_ the girl -- while still doing what needs to be done. There has to be a solution that doesn't involve her breaking the heart of the one person who's ever wanted her for who she was, and not just for what she can do.

She assumes anyway. Ava's not entirely sure why Beatrice is even interested in her, and why she suddenly isn't all that concerned about her past...it's just too good to be true, isn't it?

Leaning against the dresser, Ava stares down at her feet, ducking her face away from the agent's prying eyes. "Why me?" she mumbles.

"I'm sorry?"

"Why do you wanna be with me? You're this hotshot secret agent who has probably saved the world a bajillion times, and I'm just..." Ava trails off, gesturing to herself vaguely, "me. I'm not that kind of person. I'm not a hero. I'm just...someone who got caught in this fucked up situation, and the only thing I have to offer you is sarcasm with a side of self-deprecation."

Beatrice sighs as she moves to stand beside her. "Ava...I'm not looking for a superhero to save me, and I don't expect a fairy tale romance."

"Well what do you want?" Ava asks, her voice cracking as she gazes up at Beatrice who was practically glowing in the moonlight.

Beatrice smiles softly as she carefully reaches out to caress Ava's face, her thumb gently brushing against her cheekbone. "I want somebody to turn to when everything seems...fucked up as you so eloquently put it. Somebody to call my own, who I know will be there for me no matter how dark things get." She pauses and bites her lip, as though debating whether to continue. "I...I want what we've been building, and what we already have. I know it's unconventional but..."

"That's us," Ava finishes for her softly.

"Yes. And if that's what you want too-"

"It is," Ava whispers as she leans into Beatrice's touch, "it really is."

A relieved smile breaks across Beatrice's face, and Ava thinks it's the most beautiful thing she's ever seen. "Then just promise me one thing."

Ava nods. "Anything."

"Promise me that if there is something important, something critical to this mission, that you will tell me. Promise me that you won't keep anything significant from me."

_"People who know too much tend to end up dead."_

Ava swallows, struggling to hold Beatrice's gaze. "Yeah," she replies feebly, wondering if the agent can hear her heart splintering into a million pieces. "Yeah of course."

Beatrice exhales softly, her eyes falling to Ava's mouth. "Good," she murmurs, her hand sweeping across Ava's jawline. "That's I'll all I ask."

There's a moment of tense silence, as Beatrice leans in and Ava's heart pounds against her rib cage. The room is spinning, and Ava can't believe she's about to do this but-

"Wait," she breathes, gently pushing Beatrice back. "I um...I wanna play a game."

"A game?" Beatrice repeats as she slowly pulls away, looking a little dumbstruck.

Ava nods as she entwines their hands, refusing to let the agent put any more space between them. "Yeah. Like um...to get to know each other better ya know?" she says, her tone bordering on desperation.

Beatrice rocks back slightly on her heels, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Alright. What did you have in mind?" she asks with an indulgent smile.

Ava licks her lips nervously, stalling as she grasps for something, anything, to ease her conscience . "Umm...well, what about two truths and a lie?" she suggests with a hopeful lilt in her voice. "Or four truths even! The more the better right? And they don't have to be big truths...but like, fun facts that you would learn on a date."

"Like the fact you can eat a whole pizza by yourself?"

"Exactly," Ava replies proudly. "And don't forget I can fit ten marshmallows in my mouth."

"Right, how could I forget that," Beatrice chuckles. "You really are quite the catch."

"I'm glad you've finally realized it."

Beatrice nudges her playfully. "Stop gloating and take your turn. Four truths, one lie. Go."

There's a long heavy pause as Ava considers her options. She knows there's no real way out of the mess she's created, but perhaps she has a shot of redemption. Perhaps there's a way for her to keep Beatrice at the end of it all, if she doesn't lie about absolutely everything.

_Tell her something real. Anything. You owe her that._

With a decisive nod, Ava squeezes Beatrice's hand and stares her straight in the eye. "Ok, are you ready?"

"I'm waiting."

"One: I was in a pretty bad accident as a kid, and I didn't know if I would walk again. Two: Because of that, I love to run. Three: The best gift I've ever received is a book about chess."

Beatrice snorts. "Chess? You?"

"Four," Ava carries on undeterred, "I've never kissed anyone."

A loud peal of laughter rings out through the apartment. "Well, you're making this fairly easy," Beatrice teases, her eyes still crinkled in amusement. "That's clearly the lie. I don't think you've ever met anyone you didn't want to seduce."

Ava ignores her. "And five...I love anchovies on pizza."

The smile abruptly falls from Beatrice's face as the last sentence leaves Ava's lips. "You hate anchovies," she says, her voice low and soft, carrying a weight that Ava hadn't heard before.

"Yeah," Ava confirms with a gentle smile, "I really do."

Beatrice stares at her with a newfound warmth, her dark eyes shining with quiet understanding. Ava turns her gaze away forcefully, trying to quell the rush of heat in her eyes. Everything about this -- about them -- feels so inevitable, and she hates every second of it.

_Why didn't you just walk away Silva?_

Beatrice tugs at her hand gently, smiling when Ava meets her gaze once more. "I just have one truth to share."

Ava furrows her brows. "That's not the game," she objects. "It doesn't work that way."

"I don't care," Beatrice waves her off, her eyes sparkling brightly, "I'm making my own rules."

"But-"

"My truth is..." Beatrice trails off with a purposeful look in her eye, "from the moment you started yelling at me in that motel room-"

"You _kidnapped_ me. Were you expecting a thank you?"

Beatrice rolls her eyes. "For the last time," she grits out, tugging a smirking Ava flush against her, "I did _not_ kidnap you."

"Well, that's a matter of opinion."

"What I'm trying to say," Beatrice huffs, causing Ava's grin to widen, "is that despite your _incredibly_ annoying personality, and against my better judgement...I've been falling for you since the moment we met."

The smile slowly slips from Ava's face as the raw honesty of Beatrice's words sink in. "Really?"

"Really."

The whole word seems to fade away in that moment, as their eyes dance between each other's, their noses brushing gently. Something flickers in Beatrice's eyes, a hint of insecurity...vulnerability even. It makes Ava's chest tighten, and she presses her body into the agent more fully, hoping she'll understand her implicit consent.

The silent invitation is enough to cause Beatrice's resolve to snap, and the agent swiftly ducks her head, capturing Ava's lips in a kiss so sweet it sends chills down her back. Her heart races into overdrive, and Ava instantly finds herself up on her toes, off-balance and dizzy as Beatrice backs her against the dresser. She clutches at the agent’s shoulders trying to ground herself as soft lips move reverently against her own, all rational thought escaping her as she loses herself in the sensations that were slowly awakening within her.

She groans and the sound spurs Beatrice on, her arms tightening around Ava's waist as she deepens the kiss. Ava's heart hammers in her chest at the feeling, nothing else registering except the warmth of Beatrice's body against her own, the strength of her hands, and the soft tenderness of her kisses.

Overwhelmed, she winds her fingers around the hair at the base of Beatrice's neck, gripping her tightly and holding her firmly in place. The agent moans quietly and leans down, picking Ava up and carrying her to the bed in one fluid movement. She breaks the kiss briefly to lay Ava down before moving her lips to Ava's neck, and Ava almost lets herself get lost in the moment.

_Almost._

"W-Wait," she stutters, her breath hitching as Beatrice nips at her neck, "w-we should probably slow down."

With wide-eyed panic Beatrice draws back immediately, her face flushing with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to rush-"

"No, no, no!" Ava cuts in hastily, reaching for Beatrice before she can pull further away. "Stay, please." She bites her lip. "I wanna do this, I _really_ do. I just need you to know something ok?"

Beatrice stares at her hesitantly, the conflict clear in her eyes. "Ok."

_Be honest. She deserves the truth._

Ava pushes herself up into a sitting position, facing Beatrice with a small smile. "The thing is...everything is a mess. I'm scared...really scared actually. And I haven't been tot-"

Beatrice reaches for her instantly, cradling her face with heart wrenching tenderness. "That's completely understandable. I don't blame you for feeling that way at all."

Ava nods, wrapping her hands around Beatrice's wrists. "I appreciate that. It's just-"

"Do you trust me?" Beatrice asks, her voice strong and sure.

_Wow, she is not making this whole confessing thing easy at all._

"More than anyone," Ava replies honestly.

Beatrice's smile is brighter than the sun, her eyes sparkling like a million stars. "Then trust that I will keep you safe. I know that's easy for me to say, and you have every right to be scared but...I won't allow anything happen to you. I promise."

_Great, but I’m not the one in danger right now._

Ava's sucks in a breath, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach. She can't understand why Beatrice won't let her say what she has to say, and it makes her wonder if Beatrice already knows her secrets and has somehow forgiven her.

_You wish._

Ava realizes that she can't keep lying to Beatrice forever. And she will tell her the truth...but not tonight.

Beatrice watches her patiently, one hand resting at back of Ava's neck, while the other reverently strokes her cheek. Its familiar and intimate, and just too much.

"I never want to hurt you Bea," Ava says earnestly. "You believe me right?"

"You are many things Ava Silva...but dishonest? No."

Ava's heart clenches painfully. "This is me giving you your last out," she says, her voice tinged with desperation. "I have like all of Spain after me, and your own agency, and who knows how many others. I know I'm a catch but-"

"I'm not going anywhere," Beatrice insists stubbornly. "And I know I'm just one person and it seems as though we have a whole army -- multiple armies -- coming after us, but we're going to be ok. We'll get through this together."

_Together._

God, Ava's never wanted anything so much in her life. She's never known a feeling like this...a yearning that was so intense, so powerful, so visceral. How could she just push the best thing to ever happen to her away? Even she wasn't that stupid.

"You may be just one person, but you're the only person I want by my side," Ava confesses, the truth flowing freely from her lips. "I know that if I have any chance of getting out of this mess, I only need you."

"Then you'll have me," Beatrice assures her. "No matter what."

"Promise?" Ava asks, her breath hitching around the sudden lump in her throat.

"Promise."

The vow hits Ava like a javelin, and the last of her weak defenses crumble to the ground uselessly. Throwing caution to the wind Ava surges forward, her hand going to Beatrice's jaw to pull her into a burning kiss that she feels everywhere. It roars through every inch of her like a blazing inferno, devouring her completely.

A breathy moan escapes Beatrice's lips, spurring Ava on. She rolls them over, firmly pressing the agent into the soft mattress, her heart skipping a beat as Beatrice stares up at her with nothing but trust and want in her eyes.

"Tell me to stop," Ava mumbles, burying her face into Beatrice’s neck. "This isn't gonna end well...I only ever fuck things up."

With a soft sigh, Beatrice sweeps her hand across Ava’s jaw and kisses her breathless. "It’ll be worth it.”

Beatrice lights the fire, condemning them both to burn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, I'm gonna go hide now. Thanks for making it to the end, you're the real heroes here.
> 
> If you have questions/requests/wanna say hi you can find me on Twitter @MementoVivere22 or Tumblr @ memento-vivere-20


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this one took a little longer than usual and I’m soooorrry. There's been a lot of writing and deleting while I've tried to find my feet with certain scenes, but hopefully what has made it into the final cut is semi-coherent.
> 
> On the upside: I think this chapter is kinda well suited for Valentines Day so I’m just gonna pretend that I always aimed to release it today. 
> 
> So with all that said, thanks for reading and please excuse me while I go hide under a rock to eat my weight in chocolate.

_"It'll be worth it."_

Beatrice's words play on loop in Ava's mind, her heart pounding in her chest as the last of her resolve fades away.

Ava lets impulse control her as she pins Beatrice to the bed, a hand resting gently on her waist as she lavishes the agent's neck with fervent, open-mouthed kisses. The agent moans softly and Ava preens, enjoying the sudden rush of heat that ripples through her body at the sound.

She smiles and buries her nose in Beatrice's neck, kissing the tender skin there as her hands find their way to the agent's hips. She feels fingers, playful and impatient, dance along the hem of her shirt, and she smirks down at the woman beneath her.

"Eager are we?"

Narrowing her eyes, Beatrice pauses her exploration momentarily before her eyes glimmer mischievously. Within seconds, Beatrice has flipped them over, hovering over Ava smugly.

"No fair," Ava complains weakly, "I wasn't ready."

"As if you could have stopped me."

"As if I wanted to," she replies cheekily.

Smiling, Beatrice tugs Ava's shirt up and leans down to trail her lips across the bare skin on display. Ava shudders at the sensation, her hands flying into Beatrice's hair to hold her in place as her hips rock up instinctively.

"Is this ok?" Beatrice asks, her lips pausing their journey as a hand comes to rest gently on Ava's stomach.

"D-definitely. I-"

A loud crash echoes outside, followed by the sound of shattering glass and the two women spring apart instantly.

"What the fuck was that?" Ava yelps, springing off the bed and grabbing her pistol in one fluid movement.

"I don't know," Beatrice replies as she hastily makes her way to the dresser and retrieves her handgun. "It came from near the window. Wait here whi-"

"Oh hell no! We are _not_ doing that anymore."

"Ava-"

"Beatrice," she drawls mockingly. "Have you learned nothing since the Europa?"

Sighing, the agent shakes her head in resignation. "Fine. But stay behind me, understood?"

"Really not a quick study huh?"

Narrowing her eyes dangerously, Beatrice pointedly angles herself in front of Ava, stubbornly holding her ground whenever Ava tries to push ahead. "I refuse to apologize for trying to keep you safe."

"Yeah well, back at ya babe," Ava retorts, managing to pull up alongside the agent momentarily before getting shoved behind once more.

"It's not your job to ensure my safety Ava."

"Oh, so I'm a job now?"

"That's not what I-" Beatrice cuts herself off with a heavy sigh, closing her eyes as if to calm herself. "I want protect you. I've grown rather fond of you, and I would prefer it if you remained alive."

Ava's mouth twitches up in a smile. "Fond huh? Ok Elizabeth Bennett."

Beatrice ignores her, choosing instead to peer out the window while Ava is suitably distracted with her mocking. As Ava carries on with her best Jane Austen impressions, the agent pulls out a phone from seemingly nowhere, tapping away at the screen with blinding speed, her face troubled and body tense.

Ava continues babbling on, keeping a keen eye on Beatrice's movements. She makes out what seems to be an odd looking chat box, and lines of code running across the screen...maybe in a foreign language? She can't be sure. The Catholic school system left much to be desired unfortunately.

"I don't see anything," Beatrice eventually murmurs as she pockets her device, interrupting Ava's Mr. Darcy monologue. "And none of my alarms have been tripped. Everything seems clear."

Ava frowns at the agent's taut face, poking her head past Beatrice as she peeks out the window. "Ok. Well, maybe it was a stray cat or something?"

"Maybe," Beatrice replies, raising her brows dubiously.

Ava nods and swings her arms awkwardly as an uncomfortable tension settles between them. Their moment has clearly ended -- rudely interrupted by a _fucking cat --_ and Ava isn't entirely sure how to proceed.

So she follows her heart. Or stomach.

Same thing really.

"Soooo..." she drawls shyly, "dessert?"

Beatrice huffs out a laugh, her features relaxing instantly. "That sounds perfect. And perhaps we can do another round of that truth game?"

Ava freezes. "Oh," she replies, her voice unusually squeaky. "Yeah, the truth game. We could do that. _Or,_ we could just eat?"

"I'm sure we can manage to do both Ava," Beatrice smiles, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "I really enjoyed hearing all of your little fun facts earlier, and I'd love to hear more about how you grew up...if you feel comfortable sharing of course."

_Well, now you've done it Silva._

Ava shifts on her feet uneasily. "What is it you wanna know?"

"Well, everything ideally," Beatrice answers, her gaze open and sincere. "I just feel as though we should know more about each other considering things are...changing between us. Don't you agree?"

_Depends on how you're gonna react to finding out I'm a big fat liar._

"Yeah," Ava replies neutrally, attempting to school her face. "Totally."

"We could start with the basics," Beatrice suggests helpfully, clearly unaware of Ava's inner panic. "What was it like growing up in St Michael's? Did they treat you well?"

Ava's eyes flicker down at her questions, memories long since buried simmering to the surface once more.

_Ava opens the door to her room, her stomach growling in hunger yet again. Meals at the orphanage were sad affairs, the portions small and unappetizing. She had been at St Michael’s for almost five months now and had already lost count of the times she had gone to sleep with pains. She was starting to wonder if the nuns simply planned to starve her to death._

_As she closes the door, her eyes land on a familiar brown and white box sitting on her desk, and her eyes brighten instantly. Bursting with excitement, she lunges forward and rips open the carton, guzzling the drink greedily and ignoring the drops of chocolate liquid that drip down her face as milk sloshes out from the sides._

_"Slow down child," a kind voice warns her. "It's not going anywhere."_

_Ava whips her head around at the unfamiliar voice, her hands clutching onto her milk carton tightly. She narrows her eyes at the intruder that sits in front of her, comfortably perched on her windowsill._

_"Who are you?" she asks suspiciously as she wipes the remaining milk drops off her face._

_"My name is Areala," the woman replies, her brown eyes twinkling even in the dark. "I'm a friend."_

_Ava scoffs as she dumps her empty carton in the trash. "I don't have friends."_

_"Of course you do. You have Superion, you have J-"_

_"You know Superion?" Ava interrupts her, her ears pricking up in interest._

_Areala nods. "She told me you liked chocolate milk, but that it doesn't always agree with you," she replies softly. "She sends her love by the way."_

_Ava shakes her head as she strides to her bed, feeling tears building behind her eyes as she sits on the mattress forlornly. "Where is she? How long am I supposed to be here? What happened to my mother?"_

_With a heavy sigh Areala comes to kneel in front of her, resting a hand on her knee. "I have something for you," she says, placing a large envelope beside her. "Perhaps it will give you the answers you seek."_

_Ava stares at the package warily, as though it may spontaneously combust at any moment. "Maybe you could just tell me yourself."_

_"It is not my place."_

_"I want my mother," Ava admits tearily as she runs her fingers along the envelope, the lump in her throat painful._

_"I know," Areala replies, her dark eyes full of warm understanding. "I'm sorry."_

_"Everyone keeps saying that, but nobody does anything to help me!"_

_Areala squeezes Ava's hand tightly, a source of both comfort and strength. "Superion asked me to pass along a message. She wants you to know that even when she's not here, there's always someone watching over you."_

_Ava nods in resignation, and with one last squeeze, she lets go of Areala's hand to more thoroughly examine the envelope. Her eye catches on something, and she's about to investigate further when she hears the older woman opening the window._

_"Where are you going?" Ava asks as she sets aside the package, her voice tinged with panic. To her horror, Areala barely glances at her as she swings her leg over the sill. "Wait! Please don't leave me in here!" she begs brokenly, rushing towards the older woman as tears blur her vision._

_"I'm sorry Ava, but I'm needed elsewhere right now. Stay safe child...I'll see you soon."_

_"Please don't leave me, please!"_

"It was fine," Ava eventually answers with a tight smile. "Sometimes I got chocolate milk as a treat."

Beatrice laughs lightly. "Why am I not surprised that would be your highlight."

Ava plays along with the joke, hoping that the agent will move on from her line of questioning. "Well, you know me. Always thinking with my stomach. Speaking of…didn't you say something about dessert?"

Smiling indulgently, Beatrice slides her gun into the waistband of her pyjamas. "Come on," she says, extending her hand out. "Let's get you fed."

\----

The city lights twinkle in the distance as JC steps off the elevator and strides into the chic office at the end of the hall. With a cursory nod in greeting to the other occupant in the room, he sighs heavily as he stretches out on the expensive leather couch, eyes staring vacantly ahead at the dull grey walls in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Chanel fluttering back and forth, one phone in her hand and the other to her ear, and he cocks his head in interest.

"I see," Chanel hums into the phone. "Yes, that's very good news. Of course, I'll talk to you soon. Love you!"

Setting her device down, the tall woman flounces to the other end of the couch, rummaging through her purse for...goodness knows what really. JC watches her with ill-concealed interest, but Chanel takes no notice of him, too wrapped up in whatever is at the bottom of her bag.

"Well?” JC finally prompts her, impatience seeping into his tone. "Do we know where Ava is? Is she ok?"

"Relax lover boy, she's fine," Chanel smiles, waving him off with a laugh.

"So wh-“

"Ava is in Vatican City," Chanel informs him, looking entirely amused by the turn of events. "And apparently she and her little friend have been having quite the adventure."

Something that feels a lot like jealousy stabs at his gut, and he clenches his jaw painfully. "So what now?”

Chanel shrugs lightly. "Ava is exactly where she needs to be for the moment," she says, fishing out a slip of paper from her purse. "I still have a few things to do for my Uncle, but as for you...well, I don't know. Go buy some hair gel or something. We have no further use for you at this time."

JC frowns unhappily but leans forward and takes the proffered cheque, his eyes widening at the number of zeroes written on it. "Well, I'm just a call away if you need anyt-"

"We know."

\----

Beatrice is already pottering in the kitchen by the time Ava slips into the agent's over-sized black sweatshirt and goes to join her. She watches with a sense of contentment as the other woman flits about, the odd domesticity creating a calming environment that was directly at odds with their current situation.

_If only._

Making herself at home, Ava opens the refrigerator door and a devastating wave of disappointment crashes over her as she registers its barren state. Gasping loudly, she turns to Beatrice and points to the fridge. "It's empty!"

Beatrice furrows her brows cutely as she pokes her head down to assess the scene herself. "It's not completely empty. We have...water?"

"Bea! A woman cannot survive on water alone!"

"Actually-"

"No," Ava cuts her off firmly, not at all amused in the predicament she finds herself in. "Don't you dare 'actually' me right now. We have a very serious situation here."

Chuckling, Beatrice gently rests her hands on Ava's shoulders and steers her towards the small dining table. "Just take a seat. I'll whip us up something in a few minutes."

"With what food?!"

Beatrice ignores her, instead fluttering around the kitchen expertly. True to her word, within minutes the agent has produced a semblance of a midnight snack, two steaming bowls of oatmeal and dried fruit resting on the counter.

"See? Food."

"I dunno babe," Ava replies, looking at the bowls suspiciously. "Looks a little healthy to me."

"You'll eat it, and you'll like it."

Ava pouts as she reluctantly picks up her spoon. "Fine."

They sit quietly at the cozy dining table, comfortable silence enveloping them as they take the first few bites. Suddenly, a loud _ping_ echoes through the apartment, another shortly following.

"What was that?" Ava asks, her brows furrowing as she whips her head back and forth in confusion.

Beatrice shrugs, seemingly unconcerned. "Likely an alert from one of my security programs. They run in the background."

"Really?" Ava frowns, disbelief seeping into her tone. "Sounded more like a phone to me."

Beatrice huffs out a laugh, evidently amused by Ava's observation. "A phone? Why would it be a phone?"

"Well I dunno..." she trails off, suddenly unsure of herself. "It's just that you had one earli-"

"I understand you are on edge, especially after our scare earlier," Beatrice says, a patient smile on her face. "But my tablets make noises all the time. I'll check once we are finished eating alright?" she adds, giving Ava's hand a soft reassuring squeeze.

Ava practically melts at the tenderness of the gesture, a dopey grin making its way across her face. "Yeah, you could do that," she replies, her eyes twinkling with intent. "Or, you could check in on something else after we're done..."

"Oh? Like what?"

Ava waggles her eyebrows suggestively. "Me."

"You seem fine," Beatrice teases, giving her hand one last squeeze before returning to her oatmeal.

"I'm just the strong, silent type. Inside I'm suffering babe, and I need a little tender loving care, if you get my drift," she flirts with an exaggerated wink.

"Ava, the last thing you are is silent."

“Wooow, shot straight through the heart,” Ava gasps theatrically. "You know, I was gonna let you get in my pants tonight but after that comment, I don’t think I’ll give you the privilege."

Beatrice's lips tug up in a smile as she daintily pops a dried apricot in her mouth, wholly unmoved by Ava's grousing. Well, that wouldn't do.

Pride wounded, Ava readies herself to continue with a litany of threats, each one more colourful than the last. As she's about to launch into a rather descriptive tirade, another _ping_ sounds out, and she spins around again, desperately trying to locate the sound.

"Shouldn't you be checking that?" Ava asks, her voice ticking up in concern. "Like, I'm no security expert, but if my alarm system kept making noises after I heard a big crash outside, I may wanna check it out."

"There're no sirens or flashing lights, so I think we're safe," Beatrice teases, looking entirely relaxed. "I promise I'll look into it after alright?"

_Well, I guess she's the expert._

"Alright," Ava concedes begrudgingly, not wanting to ruin their night. After all, it was rich of her to be distrustful of Beatrice when _she_ was the big fat liar in the room. "Soooo, where did you learn to make this delightful dish?" she inquires curiously around a mouthful of gross slop.

Beatrice smiles faintly, a far off look in her eye. "Shannon, actually. She was a stickler for healthy meals. Of course, she liked to splurge on junk now and then, but overall she was very conscientious."

Ava raises her spoon in mock salute. "Well, thanks Shannon. I really owe ya one bud," she says, a hint of sarcasm lacing her tone.

"I actually think you two would have gotten along splendidly."

"Oh, I'll bet," Ava snorts in amusement.

Beatrice shifts in her chair as she takes a well-mannered bite of her dried fruit concoction, humming in delight. "Speaking of friends," she starts conversationally, "did you have many at St Michael's?"

Ava stiffens at the question. It's as though the agent knows exactly which button to press, and for the first time since they’ve met, Ava feels hopelessly off balance. Shovelling a large mouthful of the foul oatmeal in her mouth, Ava's cheeks puff out like a chipmunk as she carefully considers her response, unwanted memories pushing their way to the forefront of her mind once more.

_Ava halts in her tracks, immediately on the defensive as she spies an unfamiliar figure loitering near her bedroom window, fiddling with the latch. "What are you doing?" she demands, her fists clenched tightly at her sides._

_The intruder spins around, their face instantly contrite. "Oh...I was just bringing you a little gift," they explain, a blush rising in their cheeks. "A birthday present actually."_

_Ava's stomach drops. Shaking her head, she makes her way across the room, deliberately avoiding her visitor's gaze. She clenches her jaw, though her lips tremble with the effort of keeping her emotions at bay. "I don't know what you're talking about."_

_Hesitantly the figure approaches her, a tentative smile on their face. "Happy sweet sixteen Ava."_

_"It's not my birthday," Ava grits out, her eyes flashing angrily as she faces her visitor. "Haven't you heard? I'm a June baby now. And I've shed a few years. A real life Benjamin Button as it were," she adds sardonically, her lips curling with a bitterness far beyond her years._

_"I know it must be hard for you."_

_"You don't know shit," Ava fires back immediately. "Who are you anyway?"_

_"I'm Melanie," the woman says, her eyes soft and kind. "I'm a friend."_

_Ava narrows her eyes. "I've heard that exact phrase before."_

_Melanie inhales sharply. "Areala you mean?"_

_"You know her?"_

_"Yes," Melanie confirms, perching on the desk behind her. "She was a dear friend of mine too."_

_Ava opens her mouth but promptly shuts it as her mind screeches to a halt. "W-was?" she asks, her heart already sinking._

_Melanie nods sadly, a world of grief in her eyes. "She cared for you very deeply Ava."_

_Ava suddenly feels as though the room is spinning around her, the world tilting on its axis, and she blindly reaches out to grasp at the desk beside her. "W-what happened to her? Is it my fault that she's dead?" she asks, her voice cracking as her emotions threaten to break free._

_Melanie shakes her head, placing a comforting hand on Ava's arm. "Of course not. None of this is your fault."_

_"It feels like it is."_

_"I know it must be very overwhelming for you right now," Melanie says delicately, "but just remember that you always have someone by your side, watching over you. You're never truly alone."_

_Ava wants to argue the point, remind Melanie that she's been abandoned in this hellhole for years, but she holds her tongue. Ava knows that Melanie means well and she appreciates the sentiment, even if the words ring false to her own ears._

_"And what if something happens to you?" she asks instead. "Superion just sends someone else?"_

_Melanie sighs heavily, her eyes far off and distant. "We can fret about tomorrows, or we can live for today. Nothing is eternal, except eternity itself."_

_"You sound like a fucking greeting card," Ava groans, and Melanie's mouth ticks up slightly in response. "And that doesn't answer my question."_

_"How about we worry less about the what ifs, and more about what's in this package hmm?" the older woman suggests, tapping the neatly wrapped present lightly._

_"But it's not-"_

_"I know it's your real birthday Ava. I know you were told to let go of your old life but... there is no harm in remembering where you came from," Melanie says gently, her hand cradling Ava's face in a motherly gesture. "Embracing your past may be the key that unlocks your future."_

_Ava sniffs, her eyelashes feeling suspiciously wet. "Thank you."_

_"You're welcome."_

Beatrice is watching her keenly as Ava blinks out of her reverie, her kind eyes curious and assessing.

With a practiced nonchalance, Ava shrugs lightly. "Sure, I had a few friends I guess."

"The ones we 'kidnapped' you from?" the agent teases with a small smile.

"Yeah," Ava croaks, shoving a mouthful of dried raisins into her mouth, "them."

"They seemed nice," Beatrice offers, though there's a slight edge to her voice. "And what ab-"

"Isn't it my turn now?" Ava cuts in brusquely, and the agent's eyes widen a fraction. "What about you? Did you have many friends growing up?"

"Oh," Beatrice stalls, looking a little thrown by the question. "Not particularly. I was in some study groups at school, and we would eat lunch together. But I can't say I made long-lasting friends out of them."

Ava tilts her head curiously. "Why not?"

The agent shifts uneasily in her seat. "I suppose I didn't have that much in common with them."

Beatrice seems a little uncomfortable with her questions, and if Ava didn't know any better, she would say the agent is trying to steer the conversation away from herself. While Beatrice has been more than open about her recent tragedies at work, she's clearly guarding her personal history very closely.

_Interesting._

Ava's onto something, and she smells blood in the water. She can get out of the mess she's planted herself in and put an end to this "truth game" right now. She just needs to play the right cards.

Setting aside her spoon, Ava leans forward on the table and flashes the agent a charming grin. "And what about your parents? I would love to hear about them."

Beatrice waves her off. "There's not much to tell."

Ava bites back a smile at the obvious lie. "Ok. So tell me about your work. Why did you decide to be a secret agent?"

"I...I wanted to help people I suppose?" Beatrice replies, her voice ticking up in question. "Anyway, what about y-"

"When did you become an agent? I'm just _so_ curious about your life ya know? Especially now that we're a thing an' all," Ava grins, running her fingers along Beatrice's arms flirtatiously.

Something like understanding dawns on Beatrice's face, and she cocks her head to the side, her dark eyes searching Ava's intently. Ava steadfastly holds her ground, smiling devilishly as their hands tangle across the table. Minutes tick by as the women engage in their silent war, until eventually the agent slumps back in her chair with a sigh.

"I'm feeling rather tired," Beatrice says wearily. "Shall we turn in?"

Ava resists the urge to tease the agent for her phrasing. "Yeah. Though I think I might have a shower first if that's ok?"

"Of course Ava. Take your time."

Ava relaxes back into her chair as Beatrice moves past her and into the bedroom. She knows that she technically won the battle of wits...so why does it feel like she just lost?

\----

A soft tune fills the air as the OCS van hurtles down the motorway, the three occupants deep in thought. Mary had been largely silent since Camila's revelations about Vincent, and both Lilith and Camila had deemed it in their best interests to leave her be. While they certainly had their thoughts on the matter, neither fancied jumping into the team leader's firing line just yet.

As she shifts back in her seat, Camila notices her chat box flash ominously. Surreptitiously glancing up to check in on her teammates, she is relieved to find them both far more interested in ignoring each other than whatever is happening with her. As usual.

With a heavy sigh she clicks out of the encrypted file she had been working on and opens the portal, praying that it’s not more bad news. She's had enough complications on this mission to last her a lifetime.

**How far are you?**

Camila leans forward slightly, scrunching up her nose as she peers at the GPS on the dashboard.

**Three more hours...four at most.**

**Remember what we talked about.**

**You must build trust with her.**

It takes all of her self-control not to roll her eyes at the reminder. Honestly, she may not have the experience of her older teammates, but she wasn't an idiot.

**I know.**

"All good back there?" Mary calls out, her eyes watching her curiously through the rear view mirror.

Camila snaps her eyes up from the laptop, plastering a sunny smile on her face. "Yes, everything is fine. Just confirming the coordinates."

"We're still on the right track?"

"Yes," she replies quickly, "there's nothing to worry about."

Lilith snorts inelegantly. "That would be a first."

Mary huffs out a laugh in response, and Camila watches on in shock as the two continue to bicker lightheartedly, trading shy smiles and playful touches.

_Interesting,_ she thinks as she clicks back into the Salvius file. _Very interesting._

\----

The atmosphere in the apartment is thick with tension by the time Ava slips into the bathroom, and she swiftly locks the door behind her before slumping down on the floor. The emotional turmoil of the day weighs heavily on her, years of trauma once meticulously buried now suddenly pushed to the forefront of her mind once more.

Looking up, her eyes catch on the old clock that sits on the cabinet, and they burn painfully. It looks as though it hasn't worked in years, the time and date stuck on a moment from deep in the past. It reads 1:05am. Aug 15th.

_August 15th._

Moisture builds behind her eyes, and she furiously blinks it back as the emotional stress of the past week finally starts to take its toll. Abruptly, she pushes to her feet and turns on the water, briskly shedding her clothes before stepping underneath the spray. She welcomes the scalding heat, and she sinks to the ground as tears flow freely down her cheeks, her shoulders shaking with repressed grief as all the memories from birthdays past crash over her in waves, each one more powerful than the next.

_As the clock strikes midnight, Ava tiptoes out of her room and down the darkened hallway, the orphanage quiet and peaceful in its slumber. It's her birthday -- her real birthday -- and she couldn't wait to see what her best friend in the whole world has in store for her this year._

_Yanking open the basement door, she scurries down the stairs and into the abandoned tunnels. No one ever came down here, not even Francis. It was Ava's safe place, and only those who had garnered her trust knew of its existence. It was a very short list._

_"Hey Melanie, guess wha-" she halts abruptly, seeing an unfamiliar figure standing in front of her. "You're not Melanie."_

_"No. I'm afraid she-"_

_"Yeah no, I got it," Ava cuts her off bitterly. "She's gone, and you're next up to watch over me until something happens to you too. I'm starting to pick up the pattern."_

_Her visitor shifts uncomfortably, unsure how to proceed in the face of such unbridled hostility. "Ava-"_

_Ava shakes her head vehemently, refusing to hear a word the stranger has to say. "No, you know what? Tell Superion if she's got something to give me, next time she can come down here and drop it off herself. She might be fine sacrificing all of your lives, but I'm not!"_

_Her voice rings out loud and clear through the deserted hallways, the anger emanating from her frame palpable even in the near darkness. The figure across from her seems at a loss, as though expecting a completely different sort of reception._

_Eventually, her visitor attempts to speak again, their voice low and soothing. "Ava, that's not-"_

_Huffing, Ava spins on her heel and stomps out the door. "Good luck," she tosses over her shoulder. "Apparently you'll need it."_

_"WAIT!"_

_Slowly Ava turns around, a frown marring her youthful face. "What?" she spits out._

_"Superion isn't coming," the visitor says firmly, clearly not in the mood for Ava's shit. "So you either accept this gift or go back to your room to sulk. The ball is in your court."_

_Pouting, Ava crosses her arms. "I hate this... This whole thing isn't fair!" she whines petulantly._

_"Unfortunately, life isn't fair."_

_The words are practically spat out with a tone of bitter resignation, and Ava narrows her eyes at the tall figure in front of her. She wonders when this person had lost their sense of fight...how old they were, when they were told they could no longer change the world._

_Pushing off the wall, Ava stalks towards them with determination, snatching the gift out of their hands. "Life's not fair huh? Well, we should **make** it fair!"_

_As if caught off guard by Ava's sudden ferocity, her visitor inhales sharply. Leaning back against the window, the figure regards Ava in thoughtful contemplation. "Yes," they reply softly, their eyes full of renewed purpose, "yes I suppose we should."_

_Ava stares back defiantly, the gift clutched tightly in her hand. "Great. When do we start?"_

_A slow smile breaks across her visitor's face. "No time like the present."_

_Ava nods, the anger slowly starting to dissipate. "Just so you know," she starts hesitantly, "people who befriend me tend to wind up dead."_

_Her visitor hums thoughtfully. "Well, I guess we shouldn't become friends then."_

_Ava smiles, and it's probably the first genuine one she's experienced in months. "Fine by me. You seem like a bitch anyway."_

_"Language."_

Beatrice knocks on the door, and Ava swallows the last of her tears, quickly scrambling to her feet, letting the spray wash away the final remnants of her grief.

"I won't be long!" she calls out, her voice cracking slightly as she hastily reaches out for the soap.

"Take your time. I just wanted to let you know I have to step out for a few minutes."

Ava freezes mid-lather. "Why?"

"Perimeter check," Beatrice answers smoothly. "Everything is fine, just standard procedure."

_I knew it! The damn beeping meant something!_

"Well, give me a minute and I'll join you."

"No need, I've got it under control," the agent replies, her voice already fading into the distance. "I'll see you in bed."

Ava's heart skips a beat at the promise, all her doubts swiftly vanishing as she allows herself to imagine all the possibilities that the night may bring. "Ok, be safe!" she calls after her, hearing the door close moments later. Sighing, she sags heavily against the cool tile of the stall in an effort to soothe her racing mind.

_Bea was the top of her class...she can handle herself._

Stepping out of the shower, Ava towels herself quickly, trying to ignore the creeping sense of dread that crawls up her spine. Everything's fine. Just fine.

\----

The apartment is dark by the time Beatrice returns, the shower long since vacated and Ava already lightly snoring on the bed. She sighs as she drops her keys onto the table and slides her phone back into its secret compartment -- this time with the silent switch firmly toggled on -- and makes her way towards the bedroom.

As she enters, she pushes the guilty feeling in her stomach aside, and drapes the blanket over Ava with a gentle smile. The woman stirs in her sleep, and a few moments later she rolls over to blink groggily up at Beatrice, flashing her a dopey grin.

"Hey you," she croaks, rubbing her eyes as she pulls herself into a sitting position.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Beatrice apologizes as she quickly shimmies into her pyjamas while Ava respectfully averts her eyes. "I just didn't want you to get cold."

"I hear body heat is great for that."

"So I've read," Beatrice chuckles as gracefully slides under the covers.

Ava instantly tangles their hands together with a small smile, though her eyes are shrewd and assessing. "So, was everything ok out there? You were gone for a while."

Beatrice nods. "Everything is fine."

"So all that beeping was because of a cat?"

"Yes," the agent replies, awkwardly rubbing the back of her neck, "it's very sensitive."

She avoids Ava's curious gaze and focuses on the loose threads of the blanket, her free hand toying with them absently. She can tell Ava is studying her, reading into her odd behaviour, and her chest constricts painfully at the thought of causing the other woman in pain.

_Stop worrying. It may not even be about you._

Ava seemed a little off during their midnight snack, and even now the sparkle in her eye is noticeably absent. She seems lost...withdrawn even. It's such a departure from her usual sunny disposition that it sets the agent on edge. Beatrice acknowledges that she _may_ have pushed too hard with her questions earlier, and in the process unearthed memories that were best kept hidden.

She isn't a fool. Beatrice knows Ava is definitely lying about something -- the woman had practically confessed as much herself -- but the agent doesn't know what it is specifically, or why she's lying about it. She wants to know, but at the same time...honesty led to honesty and after tonight, Beatrice isn't sure if she's ready for that just yet.

"What are you thinking about?" Ava asks, her soft voice piercing through the noise in Beatrice's mind.

_God, where to start._

"Nothing and everything," she replies with a humourless laugh. "What about you?"

Ava purses her lips, her shoulders stiffening as she glances off to the side. "Do you ever worry about not being enough?"

Beatrice furrows her brows as she regards the woman next to her. "I think everybody has that fear," she answers delicately. "But that being said," the agent continues, running her thumb along Ava's jawline, "you'll always be enough for me."

Ava's eyes sparkle at her declaration, and the look she gives Beatrice leaves her absolutely breathless. "Thank you," she murmurs as she slowly leans forward and presses a gentle whisper of a kiss to the agent's lips.

As she goes to pull away, Beatrice draws her back in by the material of her shirt, pressing their lips together in a sweet, lingering kiss that feels a little like adventure and a lot like unspoken promise. Her heart stutters in her chest, and she closes her eyes, letting herself imagine that the only thing that existed in the world was in this room; just the two of them, in each other's arms.

It's so easy to lose herself in the fantasy, that it hurts to open her eyes and be reminded of the gravity of their situation. What's coming for them, and what's already at their doorstep. Beatrice knows this may not last, that their time together may be limited. And before it ends, she has to know...

"What is this?" Beatrice whispers as Ava starts to pepper soft kisses along her jawline.

Pausing her ministrations, Ava glances up and frowns at the question. "You need a definition? Ok...it's called kissing. Which is a prelude to making out. Or is it the same? I du-"

Beatrice whacks her shoulder. "I meant, what is this thing between you and I," she clarifies with a huff. "What are we?"

"Oh," Ava says softly. "Well...what do you want us to be?"

It's a loaded question, but the answer came as easily to Beatrice as breathing air. "Real," she replies honestly. "I want this _\-- us --_ to be real."

Ava gulps harshly at her words, her eyes shining brightly. "It's real Bea. Everything between us - especially the way you make me feel - it's all real."

Beatrice feels her chest clench tightly. "Do you mean that?" she whispers, desperately trying to swallow the emotions rising within her.

"Of course I do. Here," Ava takes the agent's hand, gently placing it about her heart. "Do you feel that?"

Beatrice inhales sharply, her breath hitching around the sudden lump in her throat. "Your heart is racing."

"Yeah," Ava replies, a dopey smile on her face, "it tends to do that when you're around."

"This is real," Beatrice says softly, her voice a little awed.

Ava nods, brushing a light kiss against her forehead. "This is real."

As Beatrice stares into those sweet, earnest eyes, she feels a fire ignite in her stomach, all her doubts and fears fading away, drifting off into the inky darkness of the night sky. Tingles race down her spine as she surges forward, kissing Ava with everything she has, all the pent-up longing finally released in an overwhelming wave of emotion. Her hands come up to cradle Ava's jaw, and she feels the woman beneath her shiver in anticipation as she arches up into her.

Emboldened, Beatrice presses more fully into her, slowly grinding their hips together as she gently nips at Ava's neck, eliciting a groan of approval from the other woman who holds her head there firmly.

"Ava," she murmurs into the smooth skin of her neck, "you can tell me to stop, I do-"

"Don't you dare stop," Ava whispers, her eyes closed and heart racing underneath Beatrice's lips. "Unless...um...I mean, if you don't...it's not...I don't wanna pressure you o-"

Beatrice decides to mercifully cut Ava's rambling short with a sweet kiss. Pulling back, she smiles gently. "I want this," she says simply.

Ava reaches out to rest her hand tenderly on Beatrice's cheek, gazing at her with so much adoration that it makes her heart ache. "Me too."

Ducking her head to hide her smile, Beatrice trails butterfly kisses down Ava's neck, and she feels the other woman writhe in anticipation. Her hands, desperate and eager, find the hem of Ava's sleep shirt, and she tugs on it in silent question. Ava quickly nods, and her pyjamas go flying across the room, Beatrice's joining them in quick succession.

Ava slides her hands up Beatrice's back, tangling her fingers in her hair and pressing her forehead to the agent's cheek. The intimacy of the gesture sends shivers racing through Beatrice and she draws her in for a slow, tender kiss; a kiss that’s as sweet as springtime yet scorching like the summer sun. She kisses Ava harder, their mouths turning hungry and demanding as they move against each other, and Beatrice’s heart fills with a myriad of unnamed emotions that she struggles to contain.

Ava starts to writhe erratically beneath her, and Beatrice takes the hint shifting her position and dropping her hand lower, enjoying the way Ava instantly rolls her hips up into her hand. Beatrice rests her forehead against Ava's as she presses into her, feeling the woman arch her back, a moan ripping through her throat.

The heat builds rapidly between them as Beatrice begins a steady, rocking pace as Ava claws wildly at her back and a sheen of sweat covers their skin. She buries her face into Ava's neck, hearing the woman pant into her ear as she trembles beneath her. Holding her waist, Beatrice moves relentlessly, Ava's moans muffled as she presses her mouth into the agent's shoulder.

The moment reaches a crescendo as Ava tenses, Beatrice holding her tightly as she arches off the bed, tilting her head back as she cries out loudly into the night.

It's the most beautiful thing Beatrice has ever seen. _Ava_ is the most beautiful thing Beatrice has ever seen.

Eyes still closed, Ava blindly reaches out for Beatrice to draw her in for a short sweet kiss. It's an intimate gesture, and instantly Beatrice craves more. More tenderness, more affection, more warmth...more Ava.

She wants this, and not just for one night.

"Fuck," Ava pants as she slowly comes back to earth, "we could have been doing that this entire time?"

Beatrice feels telltale tears burning in her eyes, and she quickly buries her head into Ava's neck. "I'm so sorry," she whispers brokenly.

"It’s fine Bea," Ava laughs airily, her forehead still damp with sweat. "Not gonna lie...I wish we'd done it sooner, but better late than never."

_That's not what I'm apologizing for._

"Soooo," Ava continues in a lazy drawl as her fingers draw nonsensical patterns along Beatrice's back, "will I get to show you some of my prestigious talents?"

"Prodigious," Beatrice corrects with a small smile. "And, perhaps in a bit...I just want to lay here with you right now if that's alright?"

"Of course, whatever you need."

Beatrice smiles wanly as she rolls onto her back and stares up at the ceiling. She opens up her arms, and Ava takes the invitation immediately, burrowing in with a contented sigh. Her fingers absently card through Ava's hair, and soon enough the woman starts to snore softly, her little puffs of air washing over Beatrice's neck as she nestles into her side with her hand resting lightly on the agent's chest.

It's everything Beatrice could ever want, and everything she knows she can't have.

"I'm so sorry Ava," she whispers into the dark, "Because I'm hiding something from you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo that happened...thanks for making it to the end! If you have questions/requests/wanna say hi you can find me on Twitter @MementoVivere22 or Tumblr @ memento-vivere-20


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, well...we meet again. As it turns out, I had a rather productive week so I finished this chapter a little earlier than expected (I know, I'm shocked too). Anyway, I'm just gonna drop this here and be on my way...have a great week everyone :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!

_Beatrice takes several deep breaths as she attempts to get comfortable in the plush office chair, her foot tapping nervously against the soft carpet. The stolen USB drive burns a hole in her pockets, a physical reminder of what she stands to lose if she blows this meeting. She wipes her sweaty palms on the side of her black trousers, clenching her jaw as she tries to keep her anxiety at bay. The round metal clock that hangs on the wall ticks ominously, as though counting down her final moments before confronting her impending doom._

_The door clicks open and Duretti storms in, his face as dark as thunder as he marches over to his imposing wingback chair. He slaps several familiar looking files down on his desk and Beatrice bites her cheek, willing herself to appear unfazed by her boss' clear anger._

_She knows he has no proof that she's been meddling with top secret files. Not really. But something in his eyes tells Beatrice that he's prepared to gamble everything on a hunch anyway, and that doesn't bode well for her at all._

_"Do you like working at the OCS Beatrice?" Duretti asks as he takes his seat behind the desk, clearly trying to rein in his annoyance._

_It's a leading question, and the implication is all too clear to the agent. Straightening in her chair, she summons all of her training and meets his glare head on._

_"Very much Sir," she replies impassively._

_"And your team?"_

_"I couldn't ask for better."_

_Duretti nods, his eyes sharp and calculating. "It would be a shame then, should you find yourself reassigned elsewhere. Wouldn't you agree?"_

_Beatrice swallows harshly. "Indeed it would."_

_"I'm glad you concur," he says with a cold smile. He stands and gestures towards the door in an act of clear dismissal, and Beatrice takes the out gladly._

_Beads of sweat trickle down her neck as she springs out of her chair, the nervous energy coursing through her veins propelling her towards the exit with impressive speed. Her heart is pounding painfully in her chest, the adrenaline of the past few days still surging powerfully through her body._

_"You're a good agent Beatrice," Duretti says as she is almost out the door. "I don't want to lose you, so don't test me."_

_She turns around slowly, clenching her jaw to contain the anger bubbling beneath the surface. "Are you threatening to kick me out?"_

_Duretti leans forward, tenting his fingers and cutting an imposing figure as he stares her down from across the room. "I'm advising you that should you continue down this self-destructive path, you will no longer have a place here at the OCS, or any other agency. Understood?"_

_Beatrice inhales sharply, the warning in his words registering loud and clear. "Understood."_

The deep sense of foreboding that had plagued her since that fateful afternoon is enough to rouse Beatrice from her sleep, and she groans softly as she rolls onto her back and cracks her eyes open. She hadn’t slept for long, and it was a short, fitful sleep; a sleep full of haunting memories and angry voices, things that Beatrice would much rather forget. She feels even more exhausted now than before she fell asleep, and she knows it is going to take more than just her usual cup of tea to fix it.

She stretches languidly, her muscles deliciously sore from her exertions the previous night. The thought of Ava brings a smile to her face and she turns over, ready to gree-

_What the fuck?!_

Her hand shoots out to the other side of the bed, feeling the sheets cold beneath her touch. Ava's pajamas are still in a pile at the foot of the bed, but her clothes are gone and so is the gun. She cocks her head, her ears straining to hear any sign of life in the apartment but it is deathly silent. Hesitantly, her eyes slowly slide over to the dresser, hoping against hope that maybe Ava has left a note explaining her absence -- or at the very least, a clue as to her whereabouts -- but it remains devastatingly bare, and Beatrice's heart sinks at the sight.

Had Ava somehow gleaned the truth about Beatrice in the few hours they had been asleep in each other’s arms? Or had she woken up filled with regret, believing that everything that had happened between them was a big, cosmic mistake? Both possibilities send a stab of hurt lancing through Beatrice and she swallows harshly, the lump in her throat painful.

_Well done Beatrice. You've scared her off and put her life in danger. All because you couldn't keep it in your bloody pants. You unprofessional, fooli-_

The sound of the door creaking open snaps Beatrice out of her downward spiral, and she leaps off the bed instantly to throw on whatever clothes she can find. She practically bolts into the living room still tugging a sweatshirt over her head, just in time to see Ava casually stroll in with several paper bags. She feels her heart rate increase at the sight, whether in annoyance or happiness, and it takes all of her willpower to hold her ground and not race over to her side.

Besides, sweeping Ava into her arms would send the wrong message. Now that her fears have been disabused and Ava is once again in front of her, Beatrice is mad. Very, _very,_ mad.

"Where have you been?" she demands the moment Ava closes the door.

"Breakfast," Ava replies with a beaming smile as she happily jiggles bags of pastries in the air. "No offence to your oatmeal babe, but I prefer real food."

Beatrice takes several calming breaths as she watches Ava prance into the kitchen with her contraband, looking overly pleased with herself.

It irritates Beatrice to no end.

"Out of curiosity, which part of being in hiding is confusing for you?" Beatrice asks as she joins Ava in the kitchen, crossing her arms as she leans against the counter.

Ava taps her cheek thoughtfully. "I guess the part where you believe I can't take care of myself?"

"You _can't_ take care of yourself Ava!"

"Remind me again which one of us got tied up by her teammates and left in a van?"

She inhales sharply at the reminder, glancing off to the side as her cheeks redden in embarrassment. "That's no-"

"And which one of us needed a rescue from said van?" Ava presses as she starts to unpack her impressive haul.

Beatrice sighs heavily, her arms dropping to her side. "I'm just trying to keep you safe."

"And I'm just trying to keep us fed. I was hoping to surprise you with breakfast in bed, but best laid plans and all..."

Beatrice supposes she can't be mad at Ava for that. Sure the woman makes terrible decisions on a daily basis, and she lacks basic survival skills but...she's sweet. And pure. How could she be angry at someone who just wanted to bring her breakfast in bed? In any other circumstance Beatrice would probably be gushing over the effort.

Glancing over at Ava as she putters about with the food, Beatrice feels her heart fluttering against her ribcage. She couldn't be mad at her...not over this.

"So," she says in a more conciliatory tone, her hand brushing Ava's back gently, "what do you have for us?"

Ava lights up like a child on Christmas morning as she leans into the touch. "Well, I got us some cheesy focaccia, pasticciotto, bomboloni, and of course some sfogliatella."

"Ava," she sighs, visibly dismayed as she surveys the spread in front of her, "there is nothing even remotely healthy here."

"And you're not in bed naked," Ava observes blithely as she sets about plating their breakfast. "I wonder which of us is more disappointed."

"I-"

"Spoiler alert," Ava continues, leaning forward to stage whisper into Beatrice's ear, "it's me."

Beatrice can't help the blush that crawls up her cheeks, but she tries valiantly to cover it, shoving Ava away playfully. "I'll make us some tea."

"No need, I got us hot chocolate."

_Of course she did._

"That's very kind, but I drink tea in the morning. There's only so much sugar I can take."

"Noted," Ava comments as she pours both hot chocolates into one mug. "Next time, tea for Bea. Hey, I rhymed!"

It's simplistic and childish, yet Beatrice somehow finds it ridiculously charming. "The bard himself would be impressed."

_"Or,"_ Ava starts, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, "would the competition make him stressed? I wouldn't wanna make Shakespeare get depressed. I've got wicked rhymes when I'm only half-dressed. When I-"

"Please stop," she begs as she tries to stifle her laughter.

"In the name of love?" Ava grins, looking far too pleased with herself.

_Don't laugh...do NOT laugh._

"In the name of sanity," she replies with a mostly straight face as she takes a seat at the table. She knows any further encouragement will only lead to Ava rhyming all day and honestly...she isn't sure she finds it _that_ charming.

Ava pouts. "I feel like you don't appreciate my talents."

"I do...when they present themselves."

Chewing her lip, Ava frowns as she considers her statement for an inordinate amount of time. "I'm pretty sure there was an insult somewhere in there."

"Eat your breakfast Ava."

"Fine," Ava sulks as she flops down on the chair and takes a big bite of her pastry. "But just so you know, this is only my first course,” she flirts, her voice low and suggestive.

The insinuation is clear, and Beatrice almost chokes on her focaccia. "Well," she recovers quickly, "I suppose I should crack open that can of pineapple then."

"Oh my god, what is it with you and the pineapple babe?!" Ava exclaims, her mouth full of dough.

Beatrice chuckles softly, endeared by Ava's innocence. "It's nothing."

"Doesn't seem like nothing."

Glancing off to the side, Beatrice suddenly feels heat rising in her cheeks. "It's just...well, something Mary once told me. A fun fact."

Ava leans forward on the table, clearly intrigued. "Go on," she prompts her eagerly.

On the spot and cornered, Beatrice falters. Suddenly a discussion about pineapples and oral sex seems far too embarrassing to have with anyone, let alone a woman she is valiantly trying to impress.

_Oh God, why did I start this?!_

"Well..." she trails off, desperately trying to find a graceful exit strategy, "the fun fact is that...well-"

"I'm dying here babe! What is it?"

"That um...pineapple can tenderize steak."

Ava stares at her blankly. "That's it? That's your fun fact?"

"It's quite interesting actually," Beatrice rushes to say, eager to compensate. "Pineapple contains an enzyme called bromelain which softens the meat by dividing proteins. It can accomplish it in as little as fifteen minutes!"

Leaning back in her chair, Ava looks at her strangely for a few moments before speaking. "I know I've said this before, but we really need to work on your definition of fun."

It’s said in jest, and yet Beatrice can’t help but feel somewhat deflated at her words. She knew she wasn’t exactly the wild, party girl type but…she wasn’t a dull wallflower either. She was layered. Complex. And above all, unrelentingly competitive.

_I'll show you fun Ava Silva!_

Setting her shoulders, Beatrice decides to throw caution to the wind. After all, why should she be embarrassed to talk about sexual things with Ava? They had crossed that line already...many, many times now.

"Well now you mention it, I do have a much juicier fact," she says with a deliberately salacious grin.

Ava tears apart a bomboloni and pops half of it in her mouth. "I'm listening."

"It's been said that pineapple can change certain _tastes,"_ she says with a wink.

"Change the taste of what?" Ava wonders with a frown. A moment later her confusion clears and she sits up with a bright smile. "Ooooohhh...I get it!"

"There you go. So-"

"Pineapple steak!" Ava exclaims, grinning widely. "That's actually pretty cool. Can we try it sometime?"

Mouth gaping, Beatrice stares at Ava completely flabbergasted. "Sure," she eventually replies, trying not to let her disappointment show.

Suddenly Ava wiggles in her chair, her eyes alight with excitement. "Hey, now that I think about it I have a pineapple fact too."

"Oh?"

"Yeah! But mine's a sexy fact," she says, waggling her eyebrows.

_Well then, maybe she's not so innocent after all._

Beatrice reclines in her chair, biting back a smile. "I'm all ears."

Ava looks pleased with her interest and leans forward on the table, practically vibrating with enthusiasm. "Did you know that pineapples can eat you? Just like humans," she says proudly with an exaggerated wink, flashing her most charming smile.

Beatrice blinks owlishly. "I think that may have sounded better in your head."

Ava scrunches up her nose, her mouth moving silently as she reconsiders her words. "Yeah," she finally replies, "still working on the sexual innuendos thing. I'm sure they'll improve the more I get laid."

Beatrice huffs out a laugh. "Well, they can't get any worse," she grumbles good-naturedly as she delicately picks at her pastry.

"Rude."

Washing down her breakfast with the last of her tea, Beatrice rises from the chair and saunters slowly towards Ava, looping her arms around the other woman’s shoulders. "Perhaps you will let me make it up to you then?" she whispers as she trails gentle kisses along Ava's neck. "Unless you are too busy eati-"

"Nope!" Ava exclaims, tossing her focaccia clear across the table as she practically jumps out of her chair and drags Beatrice into the bedroom. "I'm done!"

"I sincerely hope not, because I haven't even started with you."

Ava's eyes widen as Beatrice pushes her onto the mattress, the agent quickly flinging off her shirt and straddling her with a smug smirk. Ava licks her lips in response, her eyes turning dark and mischievous.

"Well, you’re gonna have to wait because I’ve got other plans for you,” Ava murmurs as she deftly flips them over, hovering over the agent with a self-satisfied grin.

The power struggle was on once more, but for once Beatrice doesn’t fight her. Instead, she relaxes underneath Ava’s weight, trusting the woman above her wholeheartedly. With an adoring smile, Beatrice reaches up to gently caress Ava’s jaw before crashing their lips together, enjoying the way that Ava melts into her touch.

_This feels real. We feel real._

Beatrice knows reality will soon be knocking at their door; that this thing between them can't last forever...but it doesn't stop her wishing that it would.

\----

"Ok, so here's what we got," Mary announces as she strolls back over to her teammates who stand waiting in the parking lot, "the landlord said that two women matching Ava and Beatrice's description are holed up in an apartment on the top floor. Sounds like Ava went out earlier this morning-"

"On her own?" Camila interrupts, looking positively scandalized.

"Apparently," Mary shrugs. "Anyway, so-"

"I can't believe Beatrice is letting Ava just wander around unprotected!" Camila exclaims, clearly not ready to let it go. "It's dangerous out here for Ava! What on earth is she thinking?!"

"I agree," Lilith says, pursing her lips. "It does seem a little odd for Beatrice to let Ava come and go as she pleases. Very careless to be honest."

Mary rolls her eyes. "Look, I don't give a shit about Beatrice's sloppy chaperoning skills right now.” Her eyes drift back towards the apartment building and she points emphatically. "What's important is that they’re both up there."

Lilith nods in agreement, dropping the issue immediately though Camila still looks mildly put out by the whole situation. Mary would usually take the time to soothe her younger teammate, but frankly, she was running on fumes at this point. Ava was clearly fine, and Camila could guard the little shit to her hearts content when they finally got their hands on her.

"So what's the play?" Lilith asks, all business.

"We gotta talk to Beatrice," she answers immediately, having formulated a plan during the long drive. "Help her see we ain't the enemy. But I think if we all go in there together, she'll just get defensive and go on the attack again."

Camila hums thoughtfully. "That sounds reasonable. We can wait out here then. Can't we Lilith?"

"But-"

"We are trusting each other,” Camila reminds their teammate gently. “Remember?"

Lilith clenches her jaw, clearly fighting her more contentious instincts. "Right," she finally agrees through gritted teeth. "I suppose if they try to run, at least we can cut them off."

"Perfect," Mary nods with a small smile.

"Perfect," Lilith echoes, her mouth tugging up in return.

A throat clears and Mary wrenches her gaze away from her teammate to find Camila staring at them strangely. Rolling her shoulders she steps further away from Lilith, finding her shotguns in desperate need of a polish.

"I'm happy with the plan too, thank you for asking," Camila says brightly, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Mary pointedly avoids all eye contact as she readies herself for confrontation. "Just tell me when it's safe to move in," she grumbles.

Smiling, Camila pulls her tablet out from the van and squints comically as she adjusts her thermal imaging tracker. "If it's the apartment I think it is...you may want to wait awhile."

"Why?"

"...no reason."

\----

Ava yawns softly as she slowly rouses from sleep, the bright oranges from the sunset slipping through the curtains and bathing the room in a golden hue. Beatrice stirs against her, her grip around Ava's waist tightening as she pulls her closer.

It's the sweetest thing Ava has ever experienced, and the yearning inside her is suddenly unbearable.

"What time is it," the agent mumbles sleepily as she lays a gentle hand on Ava's stomach.

"Late," she replies. "But who cares, no one is chasing us right?"

Beatrice giggles at her poor attempt at humour, and Ava falls for the woman next to her even more. She breathes unevenly as the agent's fingertips start to lightly trace over her skin, Beatrice's hand moving lazily just above Ava's heart. Her eyes latch on to the way the agent's slender fingers dance across her body, and she holds Beatrice closer, lost in the illusion that this peaceful moment could last forever.

Before all of this craziness -- before Beatrice -- Ava had been so lonely that she thought the heartache would claw its way out of her chest. Now everything has changed...only, Ava knows it can't last. And maybe that's worse than never having it at all.

"I've been thinking," Beatrice murmurs as she cuddles into her side, breaking Ava's downward spiral, "there are things we should probably talk about."

"You want another round of the truth game?" Ava guesses, hoping her tone doesn't give away how much she hates the idea.

"No," Beatrice replies, her face the picture of calm serenity. "You can discover more about a person in an hour of play, than in a year of conversation."

Ava chuckles. "Wow, that's deep babe."

"I'll be sure to pass along your appreciation to Plato."

She rolls her eyes. "Of course you read Plato. Next you'll be telling me you can read Latin too."

Beatrice goes still against her, huffing out an awkward laugh. Ava frowns at her reaction until understanding dawns, and she pulls back from the agent mouth hanging open.

"You _can_ read Latin!" she exclaims incredulously.

"Yes, but so can a lot of people," Beatrice defends weakly.

Ava snorts at her assertion. "I don't know what kind of people you hang around with, but I'm pretty sure that most people don't read Latin."

"Well, maybe you just need to get out more."

Ava groans loudly. "I'm _trying,_ but every time I do, I get fucking kidnapped!"

"That is rather unfortunate."

"Unfortunate?! You do remember that this is all _your_ fault right?"

"How many times do I hav-"

With smirk, Ava pulls Beatrice closer, slipping a hand to the back of her head and kissing her soundly before she finishes her sentence. Beatrice smiles against her lips, and it’s one of those picture perfect moments that Ava has seen a million times in the movies, but never once thought she would get to experience.

Beatrice laughs, the sweet sound sending warm vibrations down Ava's spine, and in that moment everything is right and good in the universe. She closes her eyes and lets herself imagine it's just the two of them, just Ava and Beatrice, in each other's arms on a lazy Sunday morning with not a care in the world. It's a stolen moment of peace, and she embraces it gladly.

With a contented sigh Beatrice rests with her cheek pressed against Ava's chest, her arms wrapped securely around her, and Ava welcomes the agent's warmth. Her heart feels full, the intensity of her emotions pounding behind her ribs with every breath she takes.

_I could get used to this._

"You know, this may be the Stockholm Syndrome talking but...I think I could love you," Ava muses as she slowly trails her fingers down Beatrice's torso. Feeling the agent stiffen, she quickly amends her statement. "I mean, not now _obviously,_ it's way too soon for that."

"Obviously," Beatrice hums, her body relaxing once more as she turns onto her side and stares at Ava with a sanguine smile, intertwining their fingers loosely.

"But some day,” Ava continues thoughtfully, “I think I could."

"You think?"

"Well, I don't know you that well to say for sure but, things are looking good for you."

"Lucky me."

_That’s it? That’s all you have to say?!_

Ava knows it's probably best to just drop the subject and move things along, but that's never been her forte. Now that she's opened this particular can of worms, she needs to know the answer. She _needs_ it, the same way that she needs the sun on her face, or a never-ending buffet of pastries.

Ava bites her lip. "So um...do you think that maybe you could...you know..." she trails off awkwardly, her hand doing a complicated dance before it comes back to rest on the agent's hip.

It's quiet for a long moment, and Ava feels her face burn brighter than the summer sun. Beatrice is searching her eyes, looking for...something. Ava really wishes she knew what it was.

"I don't fall in love," Beatrice finally says and Ava's face falls.

_Well, that's a kick to the ovaries._

"Oh. Yeah, totally," she replies quickly, scrambling to save face as she struggles to contain her disappointment. "Good for you."

Beatrice's eyes soften with affection, and she gives her a small smile. "That being said," she continues, her hair tickling Ava as she tilts her head up to face her more fully, "things change and circumstances shift."

_Great, I'm dating the Riddler._

"Ok..."

"What I'm trying to say is," Beatrice pauses, her fingers absently trailing across Ava's collarbone as she chooses her next words carefully, "I think that if I were to ever fall in love with someone...you would be exactly the kind of person I would fall for."

_HELL YEAH I AM!_

Ava doesn't even bother to fight the grin that stretches across her face and she does a happy wiggle, ignoring the agent's disgruntled whine when she gets displaced. "You know what this means right?"

"I'm afraid to ask," Beatrice replies dryly as she nestles back into Ava's side once more.

"I called this from the start," Ava boasts, puffing her chest out proudly as Beatrice rolls her eyes with a heavy sigh. "I said we were gonna share a bed, and then we were gonna fa-"

"Ava," Beatrice growls, her voice low and gravelly as she pushes Ava onto her back, swinging a leg over her waist and straddling her with a dangerous look in her eye. "For once in your life, just _shut up."_

Ava gapes like a fish, her hands immediately coming to rest on Beatrice's hips as the agent hovers over her, eyes dark and full of promise. "Uh y-yeah. W-whatever you say babe."

"That's more like it."

\----

Camila whistles happily as she leans against the back of the OCS van, setting up her laptop until it's whirring softly, fast colourful text and complicated codes flowing across the darkened screen. She whips out her tablet and checks her thermal imaging tracker, a smile tugging at her lips.

"Well?" Mary prods impatiently as she paces back and forth in the parking lot. "Can I go in now?"

_I wouldn't._

"Sure. I don't think they will give you any problems," she replies sweetly as she turns the screen off. "It looks like they are...sleeping."

"Sleeping? At this time of day?" Lilith tsks, her dark eyes full of judgement. "I am starting to worry about Beatrice's work ethic."

Mary grunts in agreement. "You would think they didn't have half of Spain chasing after them."

Camila bites back a smile as she hands the team leader her satchel. "Good luck in there Mary. I can't wait to hear how it goes."

"Thanks Cam," Mary replies, taking the satchel gratefully. "Remember to keep an eye on the exits. Do _not_ let them escape again."

"We won't."

Camila smiles as she watches the team leader stalk into the apartment complex, fully aware that she's going to get an absolute earful when all is said and done. She doesn't care. Mary's reaction is sure to make it worth it.

With a satisfied hum, she takes a sip of water and checks her watch. "I'll take the east; you take the west?"

Lilith nods brusquely as she starts to gather her weapons from the back of the van, clearly still put out over being left behind. With a sigh, Camila leans back and whips out her enhanced binoculars, scanning the parking and surrounding streets for any suspicious activity.

And that's when she sees _her._

"Lilith," she whispers, batting at her teammate insistently. "Look over there by the lamppost. Isn't that Crimson?"

Frowning at the less than graceful prodding, Lilith follows Camila's line of sight, her eyes widening as her eyes land on the tall blond of their nightmares. "What the bloody hell is _she_ doing here?"

"Maybe she just wants to talk to Ava?" Camila suggests, her voice ticking up hopefully.

Lilith shoots her a cynical look. "Or she's here to finish the job."

Camila sighs, feeling entirely helpless as she watches an ashen looking Crimson skulk into the parking lot. While she derives a certain sense of satisfaction watching her limp around (well done Ava!), Camila has to admit she's more than a little worried about her presence here.

How did she know Ava was in Vatican City? How did she know where Beatrice had hidden her away? And what was she planning to do with this information?

Despite the squad's current issues with Beatrice, if there's one thing they can all agree on it's that Crimson is dangerous and frankly, a little unhinged. Surely they could all put aside their bad blood to focus on the bigger threat...right?

Squaring her shoulders Camila turns to her teammate. "Well, what do we do?"

"Sit here and watch," Lilith deadpans as she sends Camila a scathing look.

She frowns. "Really?"

"No Camila," Lilith huffs, rolling her eyes as she reaches for her gun. "We take care of it. Come on."

"But aren't we supposed to be watching the exits?" she asks, worrying her lip between her teeth. "What if-"

Lilith waves her off flippantly. "Mary can handle it," she assures her. "We need to focus on Crimson. If we let her get away-"

"She may try to kill Ava again."

"Exactly."

_Well, that makes sense._

Camila nods, feeling much better about the plan. "I'm sure Mary can handle it," she says, more to reassure herself than anything.

Lilith clicks the safety off her gun. "Time to go finish what Ava started."

_Hold on...what?_

"Wait, that's not what we discussed," she says, her mind frantically replaying their conversation as she scampers after her teammate. "We are not killing anyone today; do you hear me? Lilith! Get back here! LILITH!"

\----

Mary heaves a thankful sigh as she finally reaches the top floor of the apartment complex. She knows that Beatrice's surveillance system is likely incredibly advanced and far-reaching, but she's fairly certain she hasn't tripped any alarms...for the moment at least.

She walks down the corridor, coming to a stop at a nondescript door, one you'd never think to look at twice. A shiny Medeco high security lock stares back at her and Mary can't help but smile at the sight.

_The perfect safe house._

"Here we go," Mary mumbles to herself as she drops to her knees and opens Camila's satchel, foraging the depths for a tension wrench and a hook pick. A set of footsteps echo against the walls and she freezes instantly, a sense of panic spreading through her body. She tenses, hand resting on a shotgun as she glances towards the stairwell. Adrenaline courses through her veins and for several moments she waits, primed to take down anyone who dared interrupt her carefully laid plans.

After a few minutes it becomes obvious that whoever had entered the complex was not planning on disrupting her, and she sets about her task once more, her fingers nimbly working to pick the Medeco as quickly and efficiently as possible. Despite her best efforts, it's slow going because _of course_ Beatrice had to choose the most intricate lock in Vatican City for her safe house. It's almost impossible to pick...but unfortunately for Beatrice, locks were Mary's specialty.

Almost ten minutes later a faint _click_ echoes throughout the hallway, and Mary quickly pockets her tools as she rises to her feet with a smile.

"Showtime," she murmurs with a sense of smug satisfaction as she starts to turn the doorknob.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that."

The familiar voice sends ice shooting through Mary's veins, and she staggers back slightly as she feels the world drop out from beneath her. There's a rushing in her ears as she turns around, her legs buckling at the sight that greets her.

"Shannon..." she chokes out, her heart stuttering in her chest.

"Hello Mary."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :) If you have questions/requests/wanna say hi you can find me on Twitter @MementoVivere22 or Tumblr @ memento-vivere-20


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